


Dragonfire

by AnnEllspethRaven



Series: Adonnenniel [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Healing, Light Dom/sub, Marriage, Swordfighting, Thranduil - Freeform, Thranduil X OFC - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-07-10 16:56:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 222,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6996715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnEllspethRaven/pseuds/AnnEllspethRaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Author's Note: 2/9/17: This story has been edited to version 2.5. Thanks for reading, and, enjoy!<br/>Part Two of Adonnenniel. This story begins exactly where Dragonwind concludes, narrating the continuation Adonnenniel's life in Ennor as the wife of King Thranduil. Their adventures continue, through her coronation as Queen of Eryn Galen, and the beginning of her efforts to adjust to increased responsibilities and challenges at a time that she is still finding her place in the world.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Diplomacy

**Author's Note:**

> In this book, the telepathic connection between King Thranduil and his queen will increase significantly. In almost every place, the use of italics in the text will differentiate telepathic dialogue from spoken conversation, or will indicate what characters are thinking but not speaking aloud.  
> Here the Elven Calendar in introduced, referred to as the Reckoning of Imladris, and will be used throughout the text alongside the Gregorian dates. The seasonal names will be given in Sindarin, not Quenya.  
> With regard to language...since July 2016 I have been making the effort to learn Sindarin. Really learn it, not merely dabble and borrow inaccurate phrases from other fics. And there are some issues that have come to light such as...in this work, the names of the Valar are in Quenya. I will edit these occurrences as I see fit, maybe providing some notes, but the more important thing is reader enjoyment and not drastically altering the story.  
> Lastly, while I've tried adhering pretty closely to Tolkien canon, I made the choice to abandon the Professor's view that Middle Earth is simply our own Earth, several thousands of years ago. There is no way to make it reconcile with the story (I don't think it ever even reconciled with his own writings, but as he created it, I'm not going to complain. Just FYI).  
> I want to thank the authors of the countless websites that were created about everything having to do with Tolkien's writings, which answered questions on everything from Sindarin grammar to whether the Dwarves delved the Woodland Realm. A ton of research went into this fanfic, so that it can be as realistic and detailed as possible.  
> If you enjoy reading this at all, Kudos are nice and Comments make writer's hearts get all fuzzy and warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Firith 54 Imladris, December 7, Gregorian] Edited; version 2.0

Thranduil stirred from his hold on her waist, waking her. The King held his wife against him as they slept, imparting blissful warmth. Nenni had never liked the sensation of cold, though it bothered her less as an elf. The impressions left by her former life were hard to dismiss. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes, and instantly felt a knot begin to form in her stomach. Through the haze of sleepiness she remembered, t _oday was the day_ , and she would have to gather herself as surely as if this were a performance in front of hundreds. _Did everyone go through this?_  she wondered. Or could she lay the blame at the feet of her lifelong introversion, and be done with it? Two deep breaths were an attempt to quell her surging adrenaline, knowing it would be the first of many. Before she could finish exhaling, his arms embraced her, and the butterflies vanished. Caught unawares, she turned to him, blinking. 

"Thank you, Thranduil, you are very kind to me" she said with drowsy appreciation, kissing him lightly on the cheek. Rising, she poured a cup of tea and shuffled toward the heated pool. Nimble fingers twisted her long hair into a knot at the top of her head. Her hands groped on the tabletop, and found the two thin, pointed sticks she'd created to hold her hair in place, absentmindedly stabbing them into position. Thranduil watched this in fascination, joining her in the pool. He reached up to touch them, curious. 

"Shall I make you a pair also? Not putting one's hair up, to enter the water. It baffles me." She sipped from her cup, unaware of anything save her tea.

He perceived that his wife was far from fully awake; and with her nerves quelled, her mind was at a complete standstill. She was oblivious to his silence. What he found far more interesting than hair sticks was this new behavior he'd not yet seen. Staring into nothingness, with her eyes wide open but unfocused. Taking deep breaths on occasion, and rhythmically following these with a sip of tea. She languidly floated the teacup on top of the heated water, where it submerged precariously close to the brim. Yet, it never sank too far. This continued, until the tea was gone. After mournfully regarding the empty cup for some moments, she set it at the edge of the pool. Only then did she seem to return to an awareness of her surroundings. Suddenly animated, she smiled at him, and asked if he'd slept well. Thranduil sensed that this slightly odd behavior had been a lifelong routine. He found her quirks charming. She reached for the soaps, favoring lavender. And peppermint. Laughing abruptly, she found the peppermint-scented soap. "I love this scent," she said. "On Earth I'd use the oil so that I couldn't smell, the...erm..." she trailed off. "Never mind, that is not a suitable topic." More laughter and a snort followed.

"Couldn't smell what, meleth? Now you must tell me, or I'll have to find out the easy way," he teased. 

"Ah, are you sure? It's disgusting," Nenni said.  

"I'm sure I can manage," Thranduil smirked back. 

"Bloated carcasses. I would use the oil so that I couldn't smell the stench of the bloated carcasses on the summer mornings, at my workplace.  It was indescribable. If I smelled them too much..." 

 

"Wife, you are a most unusual creature," he said, his eyes laughing. 

"Husband, you have no idea."  The silly conversation lightened their hearts.

Nenni made a selection of clothing for the day, feeling much as though armor was being laid out prior to battle. She settled on the lovely and flattering gown he'd given her earlier, with her circlet.  For an aura of being backed by her King's authority, and not one of a bumpkin off the farm; or, at least that was the hoped-for outcome.  "Thranduil", she asked, frowning, "do Elves....is it common among Elves to feel that ellith are inferior or that their words carry less weight than those of ellyn?"

Visibly taken aback, Thranduil frowned. "It is not. And may I ask why such an idea would concern you? Has anyone behaved toward you in a manner that would make you feel thus?"

"No. Everyone here has been kind and respectful. I ask because on Earth, a woman in mixed company must often first use every craft at her disposal merely to be taken seriously. Women are viewed culturally by many males, though certainly not all, as having lesser insight, lesser ability, less to contribute. I did not know if I would face the same here. I meant no offense. If you understood the world I came from, you would understand why I had to inquire."

 _Small wonder, that she struggles with anxiety_ , he thought. Could he imagine his rule if he needed to justify every command he issued, or every comment he made? It was impossible.  He lifted her chin to be sure she met his eyes. "You need not concern yourself with this. They will judge your words on their own merit. Your connection to me will provide you with a measure of influence; even were they inclined to do so, they would not dare contradict assertions to which I give my personal witness. Do not let your confidence in yourself falter.  I have seen your capabilities. Own them with assuredness; treat yourself as you deserve to be treated."

Nenni locked her eyes to his, feeling a small flare of irritation at the lightly misplaced advice. "I don't wish to do otherwise. Thranduil, I am laid bare to you. Today of all days, use it. See the confidence I do have, layered over my near total lack of knowledge of how anything is done here, and my desire to avoid a misstep." She sighed. "The day will go well, because I intend it to. I know you will not let me falter, because it is within your grasp to explain what I do not know, inside of my mind. I place my trust in you, and ask for your patience with me. Forgive my frustrations and irritations; I very badly want to do well. And I can, and I will. Nothing really worth doing is ever entirely easy for me. My lord King," she added softly, as a gesture of respect.

 _There would have been a time when her words would have angered me_ , he thought. He saw clearly, and not for the first time, what insight he could have when he refused to react defensively. She was not ordering him about, but was telling him her needs in the clearest way she knew how. Her deference, even in the midst of her tangled thoughts, did not go unnoticed. He wordlessly embraced her, sending his reassurance. 

The closures on her gown were swiftly ordered with his dextrous fingers, and he left her to fuss with her hair while he dressed. He returned, resplendent in silver jacquard robes with red satin accents. Nenni was in the final stages of  securing the final two-stranded twist she'd worked into each side of her hair. He placed the circlet on her head, then retrieved his crown, which now was laced with emerging sprigs of holly and evergreen. She looked on it in admiration. "How beautiful your crown is, Thranduil. Did you know that when I was first brought before you, more than half my thoughts were lost in admiring it, and how magical it seemed? I wondered greatly, at how it appeared to be alive. I should have been more concerned with many other things that day, but the sight of it captivated me. Not to mention its wearer," she said shyly. Her eyes unfocused, as she lost herself in her warm recollections of her first sight of him.

"Would you like to hold it?" he asked.

 Surprised at the invitation, she accepted it as though it were made of glass. Her eyes widened as she felt the life in it. "It _is_ alive! How is this possible? Take it, quickly, before I lose control. It wants to grow," she explained. 

He answered: "The crown is under an enchantment. It is granted to me to effect certain kinds of magic. When I assumed the kingship, long ago, I crafted this to provide a visible symbol of our forest realm, and our endurance here in harmony with our surroundings. It is my oath and duty to preserve and protect all that it represents." Nenni could think of no words by which to respond to this, so she nodded. This was not the time to let her mind reflect on his dual nature, as husband and monarch.

The bells pealed at last, and for the first time King Thranduil and his queen consort made their way to the Great Hall, her hand on his arm. Nenni was now glad of the time Tinivel had brought her here and explained the routine, including the small ceremonial gestures should the King arrive.  Galion went ahead to ring the bell, announcing them. As they made their way to the balustrade overlooking the Great Hall, those seated below rose to pay their respects to their King. Unbidden, Nenni released his arm, and turned to curtsy deeply to Thranduil. Smiling, he offered her his hand to raise her up, then turned and acknowledged those in the Hall. He chivalrously seated his queen, then himself.

As Galion served them their meal, Thranduil sent to her privately, in a gentle tone: _It was not necessary, for etiquette, for you to curtsy to me here_. 

She smiled at him, returning her own thought. _But it was, for me. I will not hesitate to pay respect to you as my King._

Unheard by either of them were the approving murmurs of those seated below, having witnessed this. They'd all been informed weeks ago that she was his wife, restored to him, but this was the first time many of them had seen her. A combination of gracious beauty and heartfelt comportment toward their King  won her much favor, though that was the furthest thing from her mind. Trying to eat her fruits and sweetroll with her best table manners, she frowned suddenly. "I had meant to briefly visit the kitchens yesterday, and the day ran away with me. Do you think I might have time today?"

"What subversive culinary plans are you working on now, Adonnenniel?" He smiled as he spoke this not- so-thinly veiled reference to Lord Falchon's earlier litany of accusations against her. She laughed. "If you must know, I wish to ask the cooks to make granola. I intend to stop at nothing until I undermine  breakfast itself, thereby ruining imports." 

Thranduil almost choked on his tea, his chest shaking with suppressed laughter. "I have no understanding of granola, but it feels so nice to laugh again, Adonnenniel." He smiled broadly at her. This too was noticed by those dining in the Hall. It filled them with gladness to see their King lighthearted and happy, after so very long. "It is something I hope will please you and everyone else, very much. Watching you eat your morning meal yesterday was what gave me the idea; all the ingredients are available. Would you escort me there later, that I might tell them how to make it? It would be a brief visit." Her eyes pleaded with him to agree. 

"I would be honored, Adonnenniel; then I too shall learn the mystery of this granola," he spoke as his eyes twinkled.

They concluded their meal, and since they had over an hour to spare, strolled to the kitchens. They smiled and exchanged nods of greeting to all those they encountered in the halls and passageways. As they entered the large room, the bustling activity stopped. Silence ensued as heads bowed in respect, punctuated by a clattering tray dropped by the last worker to notice their presence. Nenni asked him silently if she could speak to them, and felt his approval.

"A very good morning to all here in the kitchens," she said with her best smile. "We wished to thank you for the fine meal, and I wondered if we might trouble one or two of the baking staff concerning a recipe I hoped you might prepare? Please, do not let us disturb you further in your duties." King Thranduil nodded his head to them, confirming their permission to continue their occupations. 

The senior baker, Lalaith, and her assistant approached them. "My Lord, my Lady, how may we serve you?"  Nenni quickly spoke of the making of granola, and the approximate ratios of the oats, butter, honey, spices, and dried fruits. She explained to spread it thinly on a tray and bake it at the temperature of quickbreads, with frequent stirring, until it was dry and toasted but not burnt. And lastly, how it was usually served in a bowl, with milk poured on just prior to eating.  Lalaith made quick notes in a book she kept, and said that she should be able to manage a test batch in the next day or two. The King thanked her for her time, and they took their leave. Reviewing the recipe, the baker nodded in approval. It was simple to achieve, yet not something they'd ever considered. _And it sounded delicious._ Smiling, she returned to her work.

As they took a circuitous route to the council chamber, Thranduil pointed out to her various features of the caverns. "They are surpassingly beautiful," Nenni said. "Yet I am very grateful that your chambers are above the ground, and for the use of garden. There is something about the light of day and night that I would find it hard to look on less." The thought came up in her mind once again, to ask him about the origin of the garden, but she pushed it back down, still unsure why she did so. Unseen by her, his eyebrows raised. She could still forget, in moments of distraction, that he all but shared her thoughts. The answer to her curiosity was no great dark secret; just a notion he'd had long ago,  left by the wayside when he descended into bitterness.

Thranduil knew the councillors would already be inside, waiting for him. He instructed her softly: "There is something I must accomplish first, inside the room. I will ask you to wait unseen just outside the doorway; you have my word that at the longest it will be but a few minutes. I believe you may have a rather obvious cue as to when to enter; should this not be the case, I will signal you to come in." A strong aura of brewing mischief surrounded the King. Feeling relaxed and well-prepared, she was glad to participate as he wished.

Thranduil swept into the room, and all the councillors rose from their seats. Seating himself at the end of the table, he was pleased to notice a greyish pallor to Lord Falchon's complexion, and that his eyes were fixed on the table in front of him. "Good morning, my Lords," he said, obviously in fine humor. "Are we ready to resume our previous discussion?" He let a pregnant silence develop after most of them murmured "Yes, my Lord" in muted undertones. Their demeanors ranged from mildly uneasy to deferential, to outright terrified; in the case of Lord Falchon. 

The King resumed, savoring every word. "Today I wish this council to narrow its focus, to the seemingly intractable problem of our inability to secure surplus stores against times of trial. It is no longer acceptable to me that an issue so pressing to the well-being of our people remains unsolved. Are we in agreement, as to the importance of finding a workable solution to this matter?" He paused, boring through the eyes of each one seated. 

"Yes, my Lord", came the reply from all but one. 

"Lord Falchon? I do not believe I heard your reply. Do you disagree with this plan for discussion?" Thranduil rose from his seat and began to slowly pace toward the doorway, like a cat stalking a trapped mouse.

Perspiration visibly beading on his face, Lord Falchon choked out: "No, my Lord. I do not disagree." 

"That is well. Because on this matter, I have received some important new information. And I owe it all to you, Lord Falchon. Was your last question to me in this chamber not concerning 'whether or not my queen had offered me any new insights into this pressing problem?' " Thranduil drew out each syllable of Falchon's own words, enunciating them with terrifying slowness while his face remained calm and unreadable.  

Breaking at last under the strain, Lord Falchon left his seat to kneel before his King, bowing his head. "My Lord, I beg your forgiveness for my words. I apologize to you, and to your queen, for my insolence and my unbefitting conduct. Please convey my sincere remorse to my Lady. I humbly accept the consequences for my foolishness." He did not lift his head, his eyes closed as he awaited his judgement. He knew full well others had received imprisonment for less.

Thranduil sent to her: _Come in, Adonnenniel. If you wish, you may assume control of this discussion._

Nenni moved silently into the chamber, walking to stand next to Thranduil. Only the faint rustle of her gown could be heard. The King gestured to the rest of them not to move nor speak. With a light curtsey to Thranduil in acknowledgement, she turned gracefully to face Lord Falchon. What he had just endured she pitied, but fully understood why it had been necessary. 

"I thank you for your apology, Lord Falchon," she said softly and evenly. "With my King's blessing, I extend his forgiveness to you. Please rise." As he opened his eyes and stood up, visibly shaken, she continued. "Please do not let this matter trouble your heart further. Your aptitudes will be indispensable to aiding our King in this matter, in the days to follow. Please, if you would take your seat at the table." She gestured gracefully and kindly toward his empty place.

Lord Falchon bowed to her and made his way to his seat, struggling to regain his composure. As her eyes followed him, they alighted on a small platter of fresh and dried fruits in the center of the table.

King Thranduil spoke: "My Lords, I wish to introduce my queen to you. This is Adonnenniel Edlothiad." As they rose out of respect, he named them for her, silently instructing her to only incline her head to each by way of greeting.  _You may resume_ , he sent. 

"My Lords, I am pleased to make your acquaintance, because it is true that the King and I have spoken much on the matter of food security for the realm. I believe I have a workable solution to your problem, but I would require time, and the wisdom and assistance of all in this room. Without our combined cooperation, my proposal cannot hope to succeed. At this moment, I ask you for two things: First, do me the honor of reserving judgement on the words I will speak to you, for the space of one hour. That is the time required for the me to demonstrate the truth of something that will otherwise be difficult to believe. Second, I must ask that the knowledge of what you will see must never go further than this gathering of persons, until such a time as the King may allow it. May I have your agreement?"

They looked slightly confused, but each one spoke: "Yes, Lady."

"Thank you. I will outline this as simply as I may. The full circumstances of my return to the King do not pertain to this discussion. What does pertain, is that I have been blessed with an unusual ability. In my life before I arrived here, I operated a farm, raising diverse fruits, vegetables, pulses and grains. Knowing this, the King made a present to me of his private garden. I discovered the nature and uses of my gift, in this garden. I am able to control any manner of plant life. Your food supply against times of trial is inadequate. On my own I had determined to surprise my King by creating a solution his problem, because I wished to help. I have placed my skills and my knowledge at his disposal, for the benefit of the realm." She looked at them for a reaction and felt their confusion.

"My Lady," said Lord Sadronniel. "I hear your words, but I am afraid that I do not understand."

Nenni walked to the table, and chose a single dried apricot. Opening it, she removed the pit and held it lightly between her fingers as it grew into a small sapling that blossomed, leafed out, and ripened a single fruit. This she picked, and handed to Lord Sadronniel, keeping the tiny tree.  "I grow food." All of them now sat stunned, openmouthed, as every pair of eyes focused on the luxuriously large and colorful fruit. Confirming with Thranduil silently that they could leave for now, she concluded, "In one half-hour, would my Lords please meet King Thranduil and I at the entrance to the palace Storerooms? I will then fully explain my meaning and answer any questions you may have. It is first necessary for me to change my attire."


	2. Sacrificium

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited, version 2.0 [Notes: the not inconsiderable amount of sexual activity that occurs in the next chapters is meant as a nod to the concept of sex magic; the ancient pagan notion that sexual relations can summon raw and elemental energy, for intentional use in healing and restoration. Add that to gardens themselves being an ancient symbol of female sexuality...] [Firith 54 Imladris, November 23, Gregorian]

As Thranduil escorted her back on his arm, he praised her silently. _You did very well, Adonnenniel. You most assuredly have their attention._

 _Thank you. You made this very easy for me. Given that Lord Falchon was awaiting execution, my information must have seemed like an attractive alternative._  

 His rich baritone laughter rolled through the Halls.  _Do not make me laugh, wife; they will start to suspect that we speak without words. Or that their King is going slightly mad. I rather enjoy our little secret._

"As do I," she answered softly.

On reaching their chambers, he aided the removal of her gown. The sight of her fine form filling the new work garments he'd given pleased him to no end, though he tried to force his mind away from thoughts of desire. Filling a goblet with water, she downed it in one breath; an amusing sight. "All this formality is very thirsty work," she quipped.

He opened his arms, and she gladly accepted his embrace, holding him tightly. The soft sway of his silken hair against her cheeks never ceased to feel like a privilege. With regret, she pulled away.  _Well, I believe it is Showtime, as they say._

They walked through the garden passages, arriving in the Storeroom. Emerging from inside, they met the councillors waiting at the entrance, standing with expressions that were already more than a little bewildered.

_Proceed, Adonnenniel._

"My Lords, if you would follow us?" They walked on, stopping at the door. "I am told," said Nenni, "that the use of the passage through this doorway is only by explicit permission of the King?" she asked aloud, looking to Thranduil. Turning to the group of them, he said kindly but sternly, "That is correct. This is a one-time privilege granted to you, on account of the urgency of this matter, and the importance of your understanding."

Nenni opened the heavy door and gestured inside. "As you walk this passage, you will soon see stores of food. They represent much, but not all, of what I raised in seven weeks' time, working alone. This production capacity was reduced by the need to create infrastructure inside the garden. I should also mention, that within the garden or its passageways, I can prevent decay and spoilage of the food." 

They passed the stacks and hoards of grains, fruits and other produce. Lord Merial commented, "My Lady, there is more here than ten feasts would require. I still do not understand how you could manage this alone."

Nenni's gentle laugh echoed musically off of the walls. "Necessity is the mother of invention, Lord Merial. It will be my privilege to demonstrate, in just a few more moments." The sight of the waterfall window captivated all of them; none had been aware that such a feature existed inside the Palace. And quite soon, they were at the door.

"This is the garden door," she said, pushing it open, "please enter, and follow me." 

The King lingered at the rear, insisting the others precede him. He was struggling, overcome with a sudden awareness that their guests now felt like intruders, to him. _But this surely is petty..._  He forcibly submerged the vague sense of ire that rose up in his mind.

Once escorted to the center of the garden, they could see the neat rows of staked and trellised vegetables. All were of the highest quality, regardless of their usual harvest season. Lord Penlor asked, "How is it possible, that produce of different seasons is all here at one time, and with winter already begun?"

"I cannot answer that exactly," Nenni confessed, "except to say that the answer lies somewhere between my gift and the garden's own enchantments. You saw me produce a single fruit, in the council chambers. Inside of this garden, my gifts are amplified beyond a hundredfold. I do not yet know the full extent of what is possible."

King Thranduil spoke, looking over to his wife. "The garden carries an enchantment of immunity to the weather of the outside world. I ordered it built, at the time the Halls were delved, and laid that power on it myself." _Forgive me for not telling you sooner, Adonnenniel. I only realized today how much you wished to know. We will speak more about this later._ He saw her head nod lightly, before she resumed speaking.

"My Lords, I wish to show you some specific tasks, for your understanding. Would you please accompany me?" They trailed after her, goggling around in wonder. At her almond trees, she had left her harvest cloths on the ground. Retrieving a small basket of shelled nuts kept at the base of the tree, she handed it to Lord Falchon. "Please, I would like you to sample these. They are called almonds, a prized nut of...where I came from. Lords Penlor and Falchon, I had particularly hoped for your expertise in this matter. These trees are, for now, the only source in all of Arda. They are slow to spoil, useful in numerous ways, filled with nutrition, and delicious. Oil, nut butter, a beverage, sweet pastes, and baking flour may be produced from them. A luxury foodstuff, if ever there was one. As you can see, there is a limit to the number of trees of any kind in the orchard. If you would, observe how this may be overcome."

With that, she removed her footwear, entering her familiar routine, and chose to sing an aria with elements of birdsong for her work. As her shimmering soprano filled the air, they watched in complete bafflement as she ordered the mature nuts off the tree. With her hands held out, she directed the leaves to follow, pushing the tree through dormancy, full bloom, leaves, and right back to a full crop of mature nuts, that once again rained down on her cloth. Nenni had caused a year to elapse, in one minute. Lowering her hands, she turned to them, smiling warmly as she recovered her slippers from the grass. "The singing allows me to focus more easily. Would you follow me please, once again?" With a stab of regret, Lord Falchon's gaze fell upon the apple trees; the same trees bearing the fruit he'd accused her of illicitly obtaining.

"This area is for grains," she explained, once they were escorted to the acre of bare land. I have focused on the hard white wheat that I found in the Storeroom, but anything would be possible, I believe." Turning away from her guests, she continued her song. The damp field erupted with grasses that became tall grain heads, ripe and golden, bent over under their weight.

"This acre will yield up forty bushels of grain, give or take. I harvest by scythe, and can then use my gift to thresh. I winnow by hand; it proceeds quickly enough. As you are aware, forty bushels is not enough to address our supply needs. But if I were to estimate the Woodland Realm and all those living in its domains at a total of 25,000 Elves, then three production cycles of the wheat alone could feed the realm...for a day. With properly stored wheat being stable for years; I calculate that with time allowed for steady production, as a surplus to our usual imports, we can succeed. Not to mention the possibilities for profitable trade of some of the crops. With, of course, the direction and support of this council," she added softly. "I have placed all that I can do here in the hands of the King."

The Lords were asked wait a moment, while she procured apples. Swiftly filling her outer skirts, she returned  and pressed the fruits into their hands, beginning with Lord Falchon, whose eyes she met with an especially kind smile. "For my Lords to enjoy later." 

As Thranduil watched this, his pride at her compassionate generosity mixed with a strong stab of annoyance. He understood, and approved of, her actions. And yet, the sight grated on him miserably. After what he'd endured from Lord Falchon especially, he felt the insufferable ellon deserved far less... however repentant he seemed to be. Again he forced his feelings down, aware that his emotion had no place here.

Suddenly, Nenni felt sickeningly unwell, and needed all her strength dissembling,to maintain her outward demeanor. Her mind reached out to her husband in desperation.

_Thranduil, help me. I am suddenly ill, and can keep up appearances for only a few more moments. Please, I don't know what to do._

Before she could complete the thought, he was already speaking. "My Lords, I regret to rush you, but I received word of an urgent appointment just prior to our time here. I must ask that we reconvene later, in order to continue our discussion. I anticipate that you can begin to work on the production schedules needed to achieve our goals here. I will escort you out, as the queen must remain here." His tone was kind and level, but not to be questioned.

"Yes, my King." Nenni inclined her head toward him, and nodded her head to the councillors. "My Lords, thank you for coming," she smiled graciously. They bowed, and turned their backs to her as they retreated. She moved out of sight in a dignified manner, and immediately dove to the grass, lying still. Moaning softly while clutching at her stomach, this felt much as though she were severely seasick, and some relief came merely from being still and horizontal. The nausea and vertigo stilled, somewhat. There had been days spent seasick like this, lying on her stomach, head turned and limbs splayed, breathing slowly and deeply. The reassuring power of the garden thrummed beneath her. While it did not provide aid, it calmed. The debilitating weakness that so often accompanied this set of symptoms was not something she particularly relished. _The problem is,  I am not on a ship. What can possibly be the matter?_

If the councillors noticed anything amiss, it did not show; they were long used to their capricious King. Not to mention, their minds were so filled by what they had witnessed, they were in no way inclined to think suspiciously. In a matter of moments, Thranduil had them past the door into the tunnel. As badly as he wanted to return to her, he knew that seeing them to the second door in an orderly fashion was necessary to maintaining decorum. The moment he could, he sprinted back up the passage.

 _Adonnenniel, where are you?_  

 _Not far from where you left me. I am well enough_ , she answered, feeling his worry and preparing herself to rise back up. 

 _Stay as you are_ , came the swift command. He hurried to her, kneeling down and lifting her into his arms. In contact with him, her sickness vanished. _Show me everything,_ he insisted, placing his hand against her face. 

_I thought you didn't need this, my Lord?_

_Everything is at its clearest, this way. The more contact between us, the further I can see. Please, show me._ She obliged, placing her hand over his. He saw the sudden onset, felt the symptoms, her confusion...and her gratitude for his rescue from a near social disaster. _And you are well now?_ he asked.

A wry smile spread across her lips.   _I can hide nothing from you, even if I wished to. You can see; I am only far more tired than I should be for having done... nothing, s_ he frowned. _I do not understand._

He sighed heavily. _I believe that I do. But my only wish right now, is to hold you._ He did not truly understand either, except for a strong sense that he was to blame for this.

 _You are King, are you not?_ she teased. _Hold me as long as you wish._

Nestled against him her thoughts grew very quiet, which was perhaps why she noticed it. None of her body touched the soil, but his did. And she could feel the garden through him. As the minutes wore on, the connection grew stronger, asking something of her. With escalating bewilderment she sought to make sense of the magic moving through her with increasing intensity. She felt desire; at last realizing it was Thranduil's desire, channeled by the very earth beneath them. In a flash of insight,  the probable mechanics of what had gone wrong revealed themselves. Gently pushing back, she sought to look into his eyes. "You must have me, here and now, until you want nothing more. Something upset you, and in turn I was sickened." 

Her insight perceived what he did not; the garden amplified more than her own gift. He created this space, and it answered to him. Thranduil had not intended to sicken her, but this did not erase that he must now yield to his desire, in this same place.

Undressing in acquiescence; he assisted her to do the same. He removed his crown, and made to spread his robe out for her. "No," she told him. "I must lie between you and the garden; my skin touching the earth. You will not hurt me. Give yourself fully to this, and do not hold back. I love you deeply."

It was not difficult, to leave his restraint behind. Watching her beauty, her kindness toward the others--he should never be so petty, but he had wanted it all for himself. He could not explain why. It had felt primal, as did the yearning he had now. His arousal burned for her. He stopped only long enough to be sure she was ready before he thrust deeply into her body. He felt her encourage him, urge him on. Magic moved through him, filling his loins with fire, intoxicating him with pleasure. It moved through Nenni too, like small electric shocks, and she opened every one of her own intensified sensations to him. His tension built like a cresting inferno, until he could climb no higher. Crying out, transfixed in what was almost a painful ecstasy, he writhed helplessly as his seed burst into her. The crushing force of her climax followed, as her hands pulled him deeper inside. He moaned softly with each exhalation while the bliss subsided, unable to move for many long minutes. Largely insensible, he had collapsed onto the warmth of her body. This release had been extraordinary, like no other in all the long years of his life. Gradually he became aware of her fingers, gently stroking his back as his face remained buried in the curve of her neck.

When he opened his eyes at last, to his astonishment he found the grass beneath them carpeted with small, beautiful flowers of every color. He moved his weight off of her, chagrined that he had unthinkingly pinned her down for so long.

"Don't," she said, seeing his expression. "Remain with the gift you were given. This occurred exactly as it needed to. I feel entirely well now."

He regarded her, confused. "What is happening?"

"I do not know so much as, I sense. Long ago, you created this place to enjoy for yourself; a quiet and beautiful retreat in which to take refuge and heal your spirit. You established it with magic, but found more here than you expected. When you entered this garden, and brought the slightest bit of your grief and your loss with you, the feelings worsened. Worsened until the mere thought of this place became a torment, and you never entered here again. But I do not believe you ever discovered the exact nature of what occurs here, of how the magic operates. You only ever realized that bad feelings, inside these walls, turned into abject misery. Am I close?"

"Yes," he said quietly. "More than close."

"You do realize, this was not your fault, today? You cannot blame yourself for what you did not understand. The garden amplifies my gift, but it for you it echoes and intensifies your deepest self. You are its father. It binds me to your emotions, both positive and negative, as well as magnifying them back to you." Her elegant fingers reached to touch his face, stroking his cheeks. "It grieves me, that you missed the good you could have found here, and that it gave you only sorrow. The magic moving through me, your passion...that was a beautiful experience, a privilege. That the union of two bodies could be so extraordinary....." she trailed off. "Thranduil, I believe that this garden is meant for the two of us alone. Perhaps no other should enter here; it is  too delicate and powerful of an instrument. This will create obstacles for the food supply, but they can be overcome. I will have to work harder, but it is a small price to pay. The earth beneath our feet has made it clear that we should respect its boundaries."

He nodded in agreement, mixed emotions still playing across his face.

She reached now to take his face with both her hands, knowing exactly where his thoughts wandered.

"No, you don't. Thranduil, you cannot seriously believe at this point that you need to protect me from yourself, do you?" She smiled, boring into his eyes. "I am afraid the lesson did not sink in deeply enough; you must try again. But this time you must make love properly. Open yourself to me, and to the magic beneath you. You must allow your doubts and misgivings to be taken away."

With her eyes still locked to his, she aimed her full focus at his mind. Not only the thoughts of her physical desire, but the reverence she held for him in her heart; as her companion, as her wedded husband, as an ellon in whom she saw light and beauty, and as her King. And how the only touch she would ever crave in desire for all the years of life granted to her, could only be his. There would never be another. She pleaded in her mind for his love, his attentions, his trust, but most of all the happiness of his heart. He had been seeing into her mind for weeks now, but not like this. Before he had only read from the books in her mental library as he needed or wished. This was as though each book had launched itself off the shelf, aimed squarely for his head. With calculated deliberation and great power, she dragged his mind out of its own frame and into hers, forcefully overwhelming him with  her combined desires. At his core, his instinct to protect and love her would dispel the doubts and lingering sadness in which he now floundered. She projected her bottomless hunger for his touch, the plea for his body to reconnect with hers.

If he knew he was being maneuvered, he did not protest. His wife had created an emotional bridge for him to cross, and he stepped out onto it. Leaning over her, he abruptly pinned her wrists near her head, and began kissing her softly. The lingering modesty by which she dampened the noises she might have made in their bedchamber were cast aside. Each kiss on her exposed skin, each soft play of his mouth followed by the brush of a cool breeze brought forth moans from her. Once or twice, she tried to escape from his grip. Not because she wished to go anywhere, but to excite him by her resistance. With each attempt and failure, he held her down more firmly, placing his mouth over her erect nipples. He lapped and sucked, fanning the flames of her desire but refusing to satisfy. After endless minutes of teasing in this manner, he straddled her body, coaxing her legs apart with his hands. While his lips and tongue caused their sweet torment, his erect member dangled in tempting proximity. Hungry lips reached up and took him into her mouth, consuming his length to the back of her relaxed throat. When her mouth released him, she sucked hard on his glans, repeatedly catching and teasing this most sensitive area with light nibbles of her teeth. Her efforts to over-excite him were too successful; he had to move himself off of her. She had almost succeeded in her mischievous efforts to bring him to orgasm too soon. Laughing, he turned. "I shall make you pay for that," he chided mirthfully. Suddenly whisking her to the cradle of his lap, he held her so as to offer tender kisses. As her lips parted with a sigh, his tongue slipped inside. He sucked slowly and gently, moving his tongue in and out of her mouth. It was all too suggestive of what *else* she wanted moving in and out of her. She burned with desire for his length to fill her, but still he refused. Slowly, with unrelenting kisses, he inserted a single finger to find her passage flooding with wetness. Trembling from the movements of this pleasing digit, she desperately needed so much more from him. He withdrew, kneading her thighs gently with his hands, brushing at her opening from time to time. Finally releasing her from his kisses, he smiled down on her. 

"Have you been disciplined enough?" he asked her, playfully. Her mind was laughing with his while her head bobbed in cheerful agreement, but pleaded also for release. With a sense of rising joy filling him, he moved into her. With a cry of satisfaction she hungered for what was to come. As he sheathed himself fully inside her folds, she felt him in her own mind. With joy that stabbed to the heart, she saw that for the first time, he was allowing her into his own mind for no particular reason. She would never have asked him, but how this had been longed for; a secret hope that she might one day receive this level of trust and openness from him in return. Love and gratitude reflected back at him. As he moved inside of her, she saw his memories come unbidden. How he had seen her long ago, and how deeply he loved her then. Her physical form had been different; she saw him looking down on a fair and taller elleth, with hair the color of his own. She gasped to see her own startlingly grey eyes looking back. That she could recognize herself in this other body filled her with awe. He showed her happy images from the life they'd known together. And all the while he thrust steadily inside of her, stoking the flames of passion as her mind relished what he'd shared. The magic she felt surging through them now was nearly a maelstrom. As his motions built to a frenzy, the image of the bower she wished to create for them flared up in her thought. Envisioning it so clearly, in every detail, she imagined the two of them already there. Loving each other on a bed of moss and roses, as the lilac chains of flowers danced softly over them; the air a heavy perfume of cedar and lavender. Nenni clung to Thranduil, her only anchor in a sea of joy and crackling animation. When the energy moving through them reached its limit, he revealed the depths of his love and desire, only for her. With a fullness of joy, he delivered both of them into their shared climax with a last, mighty thrust. They writhed and twisted, spending the limits of their passion against each other's heated bodies until both lay in the pleasant sunshine, gasping for air. Their joined bodies pulsed yet, with swollen sensitivity.

Nenni  heard a cracking sound from across the garden, but it was not yet possible to move. Thranduil was the first to sit up, pulling her to him. His face was awash with joy as he held her, his eyes sparkling.

"Adonnenniel, thank you. I had not understood. Each time I believe my life with you cannot become more complete, I am proven wrong."

Unrestrained kisses were placed on his neck and jaw, while her fingers stroked his glowing face. "If I am not mistaken, I believe this will not be the last gift you receive today. Come, let us see." She held out her hand to him, standing up. His seed spilled from her body, causing her to smile with erotic satisfaction as each step smeared his generous emission between her thighs. They walked to the area in which she'd wished to create the bower, and found that her ears had not deceived her. It was accomplished, born from the intensity of their union and the direction of her mind. Nenni gasped. This place was more lovely, more stunning than what she envisioned...and it hummed with magic. Her magic. Magic for her. In this one space, her will to have him whole and healed would have ascendancy over any thought or feeling he bore with him.

She turned to him, still holding his hand. "This did not occur quite in the manner I expected, but how fitting that we created this together, in the fullness of our love. Thranduil, this is what I had planned to give to you; the completion of all my work here. Let this bower be a sanctuary for your heart; a place where nothing that troubles you can hope to endure. I know what it is to try and escape a dark and unhappy past. It reaches out, beckoning with a form of diseased comfort made familiar by long usage. This place is the magical expression of my love for you; no dark thoughts of your own can prevail here.

He followed, dazed, as she led him to the bed of soft mosses and rose petals. A few feet away was the stone bench where she hadd pledged herself to him. The scent of the place alone was intoxicating, and he felt its joyous power surging through him. How could he ever match this offering? No jewels could buy this; no material object of any kind could equal this. The Elvenking was out of his depth, and filled with gratitude. "Adonnenniel. There is something I should have done, here, on the day we reunited. I would rectify that, now."

He knelt in front of her, holding her hands in his own. As he spoke, he gave her the vision of the first time he recited these words to her. "Before Eru, I give myself to you unreservedly; my love, my spirit, and my body. All that I am, all that I have, I place in your keeping." He paused, to look down, before meeting her gaze again. "It was wrong of me not to speak my vows again to you on that day, Adonnenniel. Though I was already bound to you, this expression of your fae did not recall my pledge." Looking around in wonder, he added softly, "I can never repay you for this gift."

She looked into his eyes, amused, though her own were filling with tears of appreciation for what he'd just done. "I accept these gifts gladly" she replied. "Repay? This is my repayment to you, for the life you have given me by your side. You have saved me, healed me, raised me up. How would I not do anything and everything at my disposal, to return the same to you?" She pulled at his hands, longing to lie with him on the bed of moss, entwined. As they reclined and her arms encircled him, all her thoughts were bent upon her wish for his happiness, his wholeness. Magic swirled around them as she held him tightly. Reaching up, she leaned in to kiss his left cheek. Her heart streamed with the intensity of her love and care for him. She would give anything to him, do anything for him. In the moment her lips touched his face, she felt the magic rush through her. His illusion was forced away, and she could feel his terrible facial disfigurement beneath her lips. The magic burned like electricity,  just barely tolerable. It took her breath away. Yet she pulled Thranduil to her kiss more tightly. A masculine voice within her mind instructed her, one she did not know. It spoke with great power and authority. _Do not break the connection, Adonnenniel, if you are determined in this. You can elect to suffer and bear a permanent sign of your sacrifice,  but your reward will be at the end of it. The purity of your love for Thranduil Oropherion opens this choice to you._

She understood what the voice offered, what the magic could do, and did not believe this would claim her life. While the thought of dying for him did not frighten her, it would serve no purpose. Leaving him bereft once again would harm him irreparably, and the Valar could not be that cruel. But up to that point,  there was no ransom she was unwilling to pay. _Please, my Lord,_   _I choose to see it through_ , she answered in her mind.

Thranduil struggled against her, as he heard the exchange. Backed by the the limitless power moving in her, she held him in an unbreakable grip, his naked body bound by her arms. "Adonnenniel, no", he pleaded aloud. "Do not do this." 

_This is my decision to make, Thranduil. Trust me._

_Please,_ she said to the voice. _Do not permit him to look on. I beg you, for his healing._

Nenni felt a veil fall over her mind, and knew that her prayer had been answered; her husband could not witness this. _He already suffered this once_ , she thought. _He will not do so a second time, through me_. There was little time for gratitude, as pain like no other reached out and claimed her. Unraveling the curse of Ancalagon upon his body would require a payment in torment equal to that of its creation. Her mind screamed with the agony filling it, and her heart cried out to feel what he had undergone. All her will bent on a single thought: her kiss must not be broken, her arms must not let go. This trial was a bodily anguish, as well; an incinerating, searing heat that felt as though it must be charring the flesh from her bones. The price of his healing could only be paid while suspended in Dragonfire, unable to die. Fear and terror picked at the edges of her thoughts, but were permitted no entrance. Still she clung to him, her determination inviolable. Afterward, she could not say how long the ordeal lasted. It might have been hours, or merely seconds. The electric crackling around her subsided, leaving muscles that trembled and seized. Not from fear, but the involuntary movements that damaged nerves sent to overwrought muscles. Some of the contractions were very strong, so painful, and a burning heat lingered over the fingers under her wedding rings. But this was as nothing, compared to the trial already endured. Her hold on him failed; her body had been rendered enervated and immobile, but still was very much alive.

 _Thranduil?_ she sent, unable to speak aloud. She felt him moving next to her. 

"I am here, Adonnenniel," he answered. 

 _Are you....well?_   

He sat up to look down at her, with the use of his two perfect eyes; eyes filling with the tears that spilled over his now truly flawless face. "My face is healed. My eye can see again," he said, his voice husky with emotion. "Yes, I am well."

Her heart soared as she offered her thanks to Eru. Her only small regret was that she could not laugh, bodily, with the joy that filled her. It was no matter. Nothing could dim her happiness, as she smiled inside of herself.

Thranduil reached for her, and now saw and felt her limp body. Her wedding rings glowed with swiftly fading red fire, as if  newly emerged from the forge. The smell of burning skin assaulted his nostrils. Taking her hand, he saw that her fingers had been seared, branded by her rings. Horrified, fear washed over him.  "Adonnenniel, what have you done?" he whispered in despair.

 _I followed my happiness, Thranduil. I do not believe any lasting harm is done. But I am in some difficulty at the moment._ She laughed in her mind, thinking the entire circumstance slightly hilarious. _Listen to me. We can communicate, I am not in pain. If you will help me, I believe it will merely take some time for the experience to wear off._

"Adonnenniel, I did not want this from you," he lamented. "I was content as I was."

In utter disbelief, he heard the undisguised mirth in her mind. _I have disobeyed my King, and will accept his judgement for my transgression. But might you bring me inside first, clean me, and see if you might help me to drink some water?  My joy is complete, Thranduil. Share my great happiness at your healing. I wanted this, more than anything._

He held her to him, weeping openly. _"_ Thank you, Adonnenniel, thank you. And I thank Eru. I deserve none of this."

The warm smile in her voice came through _: I love you, Thranduil. With all that I am. You do deserve this, but I have opposed you enough for one day and will not argue._


	3. Enervation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited, version 2.0   
> I would like to thank AO3 writer Spamberguesa, for allowing me to use the name of her character for Galasríniel the Healer.  
> [Rhiw 1 Imladris, November 24, Gregorian] Rhiw is one of six seasons on the Elvish calendar; Winter.

As Thranduil carried her to their chambers, the sun had long passed overhead, and it was now early afternoon. "Adonnenniel," he asked, "what exactly is wrong?" He found that her mind  skipping around so much in a sort of victory celebration that he could not understand what had happened.

_Well, at the moment, I can only blink. No other part of my body is under my control. My guess is, the experience impaired the nerves controlling my muscles. And my fingers, where my wedding rings are, they hurt.._

"I will care for you. Is there anything you wish right now?"

_Would you take me into the bath, please? After so much passion, I leave you to guess which parts of me might need to be cleaned. And, I am very thirsty. But I cannot swallow. That could be a problem._

Thranduil laughed at her. "Of course."

 _Am I ever going to stop thinking of myself as a human? I have to struggle to remember to say words like 'elleth'_ _instead of 'woman'_. _There are times I wonder whether I will ever fully believe or understand that I am now as you are,_ she said, becoming suddenly thoughtful.

He replied soberly, "A human could not have done what you did today, Adonnenniel. It will take time. In five hundred years, you will feel differently."

 _May I ask what you experienced, back there?_ This was a matter of genuine curiosity.

"I had a feeling of warmth and pleasure in my face. A tingling, you might say. And then my connection to your mind was severed. There were sensations of...not discomfort; but most peculiar, as my face and eye were restored. My body was immobilized as this was happening, and the thing I was most aware of was the scent of the bower. Eventually, all the unusual feelings stopped, and I was able to move again. Then I heard you call for me, in my mind."

_I am so very happy to hear this. It is more than I could have hoped for. Did you know that the entire time, I kissed you?_

"I did not know. Though, perhaps that was why it felt so blessed. Adonnenniel, from the words I heard, I know that what you felt was not pleasant. I am sorry."

_There is no need to feel sorry for me; it is done. A great purpose lies ahead for you, Thranduil; for all of us. Nothing could be more important than to see you restored to your fullest strength and ability._

He paused for some time. "What do you know, that you have not told me?" He asked her this with a hint of sternness, as he carried her into the heated pool. He had gently set her down on the bed, long enough to gather up her hair for her, to keep it dry.

It turned out sighing was possible, in addition to blinking. _Thranduil, you could look into my mind and take it from me, easily enough. I would not resist you. But, I must ask you a question. I will answer as you instruct._

_As you know, or I think you know, I had some awareness of Arda, from books that existed on Earth. They were supposed to be stories, albeit one of the greatest stories ever recorded. What I read in the books has accurately matched the events that have unfolded since before my arrival, as far as I can determine. I believe you know that a great war is coming. The One Ring has been found, and soon enough the Dark Lord in the south will learn of this. He will use all his might to seek it._

_The books revealed the dates when these events would occur, and what the threat to your rule would be. Legolas hinted at coming troubles, of which I already know, and I said nothing to him. It is my greatest fear, that what I know would change the outcome for this world. I know how the war ends. I know the fate of many, including you. If I reveal to you what I read, do I alter the course of events, making matters worse? Do I give you information by which you may make decisions, which turn out to be false steps? It is a responsibility I have agonized over since I arrived here. Yet such decisions are perhaps best not made alone. You are a great King. I lack your experience and insight. So I ask, and will obey you: Do I speak and reveal what I know, or do I remain silent?_

Relieved at last of the responsibility for this decision, she mused:  _This conversation was inevitable. I just wish I might have been able to sit up on my own before having it._

"Adonnenniel, you have shown great wisdom and great restraint. I do not fault you for your prudence. But as you just noted, this conversation was indeed inevitable. There was a time when the person I am now would have freely admitted to you that it would be best to withhold this information from me. I was rash, selfish, and my agendas were for my benefit. I did not care for all those who are part of this world. While I have forgiven myself, under your guidance, for these failures of my rule; I believe, I hope, that I am more worthy now to be entrusted with such knowledge.  I can promise you that impulsive decisions and self-interest are things I have left behind.  With humility, I would ask you to divulge what you know of these matters."

_As you wish it. I respectfully ask_ _for you to tell me how best to proceed._ _The books contained volumes of detail. Do I provide you with an outline? Do I tell the tale in all the detail I possess? Do I answer your specific questions? The matter is the equivalent of being asked to tell someone the entire history of the First Age._

He thought, as he cradled and moved her body around so that he might clean her, carefully keeping her head above the water. It felt very strange for her, to have no control whatsoever, and yet she was not numb. She could feel every touch, and wondered how long this strange circumstance might last. As she communicated with Thranduil, she focused hard on the thought of trying to swallow. For she burned with thirst, and knew she could have nothing until she could swallow without choking.

"Adonnenniel, I am sorry. I should not be lingering on this topic; we will discuss this later. I am going to bring you out of the water, and dry you. There are salves and cordials that may speed the restoration of your ability to swallow. I will send for them right away. "

_Thank you, Thranduil.  I appreciate your care, very much._

He dried and dressed her in underclothing, with a simple tunic, and placed her carefully in their bed. He propped up her body with pillows, so that she would have as much range of vision as possible. He then rang for Galion, dressing himself quickly while waiting for the steward. Instructions were given for a healer to bring ointments and herbs. And that after, he was to summon Legolas to these chambers, when the Prince's duties permitted.

The head Healer arrived swiftly. Thranduil took her aside first to explain, his face awash in a strange combination of joy and trepidation: "This is not an ordinary injury,  Galasríniel. Everything I am about to tell you must be kept in strict confidence. Adonnenniel has been at the center of extraordinary happenings. Today something happened I do not fully understand; she somehow channel the magic needed  to heal my injuries from...the dragon. I could not stop her.  There were serious consequences; her body is almost completely enervated. My wife can blink, and move her eyes. She is thirsty, and cannot swallow. Surely there is a way we can restore at least this function more quickly. I have determined that she is not in physical pain." 

Galasríniel's eyes widened in sympathy. "Please, my Lord, take me to the queen."

 _Adonnenniel, follow my lead, please_ , he sent to her. "Galasríniel, she can answer questions by using one blink for yes, and two for no."

Galasríniel examined Nenni. "Can you feel my touch, my queen? Please indicate to me as I move over your body." After what seemed like a hundred single blinks, Galasríniel took out a jar of salve. "My Lord King, I will apply this to her body. Especially her neck and throat and jaw. It must be rubbed in for many minutes. I believe, my Lord, that if you would use athelas, it would not go amiss."

 _I am a complete idiot_ , Thranduil berated himself. _How in Eru's name could I fail to think of that?_ He immediately retrieved his supplies.

"My Lord, there is something else. Her fingers under her wedding rings are injured, but it will not be easy to remove the jewelry."

Adding hot water from the sideboard to a bowl, he brought it to Nenni. He scooted across the bed awkwardly to reach her, so that  Galasríniel might have the better place from which to work. It was not the most dignified arrangement, but he could care less about royal protocol at the moment. He crushed the abundant supply of the fresh plant into the heated water, and began to apply the liquid slowly to her skin with a cloth, keeping the bowl where she could smell its vapors. He paused frequently, to dab at her throat and lower jaw. As he moved slowly down her arm, which he cradled in his own hands, he felt the barest contraction of her fingers against his skin. His heart soared at this; it told him that Nenni was probably correct; that the damage would not be permanent. He saw her burned fingers, and tentatively tried to see if her rings could be removed.

_Leave them on, Thranduil. Do not bother trying._

_Why, meleth? They will scar if I do not treat them._

_They will scar regardless, husband, as they are meant to._

_Adonnenniel, I do not understand._

_Do you remember what I was told, by Eru himself? I will bear a permanent sign, for something made possible by my love for you. Stop the soreness and swelling if you have the means, but nothing you can do will prevent the scars._ _Please thank Galasríniel for me; and thank you too, for this care._ He met her eyes, and imperceptibly nodded.

At long last, the Healer finished, speaking with the King as she left. "I have never seen the like, my Lord. But that she can feel all my touches is encouraging; it should not be a permanent condition. Do you wish me to return to care for her?"

"No, thank you, Galasríniel," he said. I will be undertaking that myself. However if you would stop by daily, to ensure that these supplies of  medicines hold up, I would be in your debt."

"Of course, my Lord. I take my leave then."

Thranduil returned to her side, and to bathing her skin with the athelas. Privately, he suspected that it would have more virtue than the salve, but he would spare no effort that might help her to heal faster. He watched her eyes squint in concentration as she tried so hard to swallow. Finally after many minutes, she managed it, feeling triumphant. "I will soak a clean cloth in water, Adonnenniel, and place the edge of this in your mouth. I must ensure you do not choke." He patiently dipped the corner of a cloth into water, bringing it to her mouth over and over, as she struggled to suck on this and swallow. It was a torment to be so thirsty and to only be able to have a few drops at a time, but she tried hard not to complain, even in her mind. Thranduil could easily see what she tried to hide, but said nothing. He admired her bravery and resolve. Since the moment of his healing, every glance and every familiar sight had been tinged with the miracle of his restored binocular vision. After so long, it was even a little disorienting and he relished every moment. Never would he take the sight of two eyes for granted again.

After quite some time, they had worked together to ease the worst of her thirst. There was a sheen of perspiration on her brow, so hard did she have to struggle. A soft knock came upon the door. "I believe that is Legolas, Adonnenniel. Do you mind if I spend a few moments with him? I will be near enough to hear you." 

 

 _Of course. Thank you so very much for the water. I think I need time to rest anyway_ , she smiled at him in her thoughts.

Thranduil excused himself and welcomed his son into the sitting room, closing the door so that they might talk privately.

"You sent for me, Adar?" Legolas smiled. 

"Thank you for coming, Ionneg. Once again, I hardly know where to begin. You are doomed to be dragged into the most private parts of my life, my son. I am sorry for this." 

Legolas raised a single questioning eyebrow, his expression smiling warmly as always. "Yes, Adar?"

"Adonnenniel is badly injured. To shorten a hopelessly long tale, she has powerful magical gifts that become even more powerful in a private garden that lies under enchantment. Many things happened, and not an hour ago she found a way to heal me. There is no more illusion, Ionneg, my face and my eye are truly as they appear to you now; I am restored.  But the cost to her for having done this is yet unknown. She can barely move and is almost fully paralyzed. The head Healer and I have just worked for two hours, merely to barely restore her ability to swallow a  few tiny drops of water at a time. Whatever happened hardly responds to ordinary elven healing. I will not permit others to care for her.  She cannot speak, either, but unbeknownst to all others, we communicate in our minds alone." He paused, taking a deep breath.

"My head is reeling from the events of this day, and I struggle to see how to manage this. How in Eru's name am I supposed to explain another absence from my duties? Do I explain anything? The queen does not want to be seen as weak or fragile. She works so hard to be helpful and accepted, and had just made a proposal to the trade council this morning; demonstrating her gifts and her ideas to fill the storerooms with food. Many here never even knew of my injuries, because I hid them. I have been the recipient of extraordinary and undeserved blessings...blessings that defy belief. I...can you offer me any insight, Ionneg?" His proud head drooped in an excess of emotion.

Legolas reflected silently for some minutes. It was enough to steal his sensibilities away, to see his ever-assured, always controlled father in this state. But the Prince was warm-hearted, and caring. And loyal. "First, I wish you the great joy of your healing. You have been at the center of remarkable events. Surely, the Valar bless you now. The love of an exceptional elleth is restored to you, and your place is by her side. I think perhaps this need not be as difficult as you fear. You say the trade council already knows of the queen's magical gifts?" 

Thranduil nodded in the affirmative.

"Ada, leave this with me. I will use the trade council, and delicately inform them that the queen performed an extraordinary feat for her King, and now requires time to recover under care only he can provide. They will not object to discussions being postponed, and they will support her. It is already all over the Palace that the Lords met with her today, and now every single one of them cannot praise her enough. She obviously made quite a favorable impression. As for the rest of the elves, her deference to you in the Great Hall this morning also is a top story on the gossip tapestry; great favor was gained, by what they witnessed. Everyone loves her. I will meet with the others in leadership and ensure that any pressing matters are brought to me, so that I may in turn consult with you. Winter is now upon us; a time when we retreat into lesser activity. I see nothing that cannot be managed from your chambers here, if that is what you desire."

Thranduil exhaled with relief. "Legoals, I cannot thank you enough for your aid. I will not often admit to feeling overwhelmed, but today I must. "

"Ada, may I say hello to her?" 

 Thranduil silently checked with Nenni. "She would like that very much, she says."

They both entered, and Legolas saw her eyes follow him around the bed. 

_Would you speak for me, Thranduil? That I am sorry I am not in better condition to say hello, and that it is very good to see him?_

Thranduil repeated all her thoughts aloud.

"Ada told me the short version of what happened today, Nenni. I do not require the long version," Legolas added hastily. "It was a brave and generous thing that you did."  A hint of a smile played around her lips as a tiny laugh escaped.

_Would you ask him if they are still finding many Orcs in the woods? I am sure you mentioned our adventure to Legolas._

The Prince nodded. "The day after Ada killed the small patrol, we destroyed another of the same size. And since then, we have found no others. Regrettably, we cannot be certain yet how they are slipping past our nets."

_Why do you not ask the birds? The magpies that sing have been friends to me. I would think they see many things that we do not._

Passing this along, Thranduil looked at her, then at Legolas. Both of them raised an eyebrow. 

"Nenni it is good to see you, I hope I may come again? But I do not wish to tire you now. Ada, I should take my leave."

 _Of course, I would like to see you as often as I may,_ he spoke for her  as Legolas left the room.

Thranduil made a fresh batch of steaming athelas water, and resumed the bathing of her with it. He would alternate offering her water, watching to see if her swallowing improved. 

_Have you decided on an answer to my question, Thranduil? Of how I should answer? Or would you like to save the discussion for another time?_

"Meleth _,_ I think we will leave this for a little while. It is a heavy topic, on a day in which so much has already transpired. But I will ask one thing, and then we shall leave this for now. How long do we have, to prepare? How soon does all of this happen?"

_The events that begin what will be called the War of the Ring will commence in five years' time.  In the autumn of 3018. That will mark the time Sauron learns where the Ring lies. Open war will come upon you and this Realm, on the day of March 15, 3019. Very late, compared to what will go on in the wider world, but bad enough nevertheless._

There was a long silence, as he thought. And then changed the subject.

"Galasríniel said that you can feel everything, you can feel all the touches on your skin?" 

 _Yes, I can feel everything._  

He pulled her forward, her chest resting against his, with her head on his shoulder. He began to rub her back, gently massaging her muscles. She inhaled deeply, groaning in her mind. "Does this feel good to you?" 

 _Very good. Thank you. My back aches, though I do not think I realized it until just now. You do know that you are not easy to restrain?_   _Such strength, you have..._ He placed her back on the pillow, that he might get some salve. He kissed her cheek. 

"You are exasperating, meleth. Yes, I would imagine that was difficult. I'm not certain how you managed it. No other ever has." 

_From your description, we had different experiences. But I can safely say that magic was used against you, to bind you. Obviously I am nowhere near strong enough._

"I'm not so sure. The day I pulled you off of the Orc, it was astonishingly difficult for me to do so." He seated himself again and resumed his massage.

 _I blame that on adrenaline.  Can agree that when I am in my right mind, and no hormones or magic are involved, that you can easily master me physically_? she laughed.

"Meleth, what did happen to you? Why did you ask for me to be barred from your mind?" 

She paused, sighing. He could feel a weight settle on her heart.  _I am bound to answer you, though I do not wish to._    _Please, release me from the obligation to tell you this._

"I am sorry, Adonnenniel, but I must insist. I have to know."

He felt her heart sink further, in dismay. There came a sudden shift, as he felt a will of iron form in her mind. She sent her next words so forcefully that he inhaled sharply, caught unawares by her sudden aggression.

_You must first know this. I do not want your guilt, or your pity, for what I am about to tell. It was necessary, it is done, and I would do it a thousand times over. In love for you, my will is unbreakable. I proved it in a trial of agony, and I have earned that no one, not even you, questions the choice I made._

Just as quickly, the fierceness subsided, as she bent herself to his will. Before replying deep breaths were taken, to first calm her mind.

_What happened was the use of elemental magic, to undo the work of the dragon.  The magic in the bower rises up from Arda itself; it is a raw power of creation, of possibility. In a moment of purest love for you, in the very heart of the well of magic, I reached out to kiss you. My lips touched your injury. In that moment, the magic stripped your illusion away, leaving me aware of my physical connection to your damaged flesh. All of these things intersecting at once allowed for the possibility of your healing. This is when I was offered the choice, and when I understood that you could be made whole. But for the magic to be used for something like this, two more things were needed. There had to be intervention; the guiding hand of the Creator, the only one greater in power than Morgoth, whose devices cursed you. There also had to be sacrifice, an act of love surpassing the evil being conquered. I was transfixed by the torrent of magic tearing through me, and left to burn in the dragon's fire. It is why trying to heal my fingers will not work; as you know, Dragonfire leaves a permanent mark._

_I do not know how long it lasted; time seemed to change. If I pulled away from my kiss, I would fail. My body and mind were the conduit; for the entry of the magic, to unravel the great spell that wrought your injuries, and for the exit of the suffering that cursed your body and spirit.  The moment I accepted the trial, the magic bound you immobile. You could not fight me off._ _I begged that you were not going to watch this, and my prayer was answered. You know the rest._

He felt her sigh deeply, once again. He had frozen, listening to this.   _Please, do not stop rubbing my back. It feels so, so nice; your warm hands and being held in your arms._

Hot tears streamed down his cheeks as he obliged her, rubbing in the salve. What she had done for him was unthinkable. 

As softly and kindly as she could think the words, he heard her: _Thranduil. I regret my forceful words. I know it tears your heart, to hear this. It is why I did not wish you to know. You must trust me. Weakness exists in my heart. I will look to you for many kinds of strength and help. Yet there are also fortresses walled with diamonds; just a few. In these scattered locations, you cannot hope to match my strength. You  see what I endured through the lens of your own experience. I could survive that a thousand times, while you could not. You are a seasoned warrior on one kind of battlefield; I fight and prevail on another. It is no detraction from either of us; we have different gifts. Just as you showed me your unemotional experience of killing; this is the same for me. Look in me. You can see that my thoughts are on other things that matter far more to me. Do not allow your heart to be troubled when no real harm was done. I am so sorry, that I cannot return your embrace. I want you to feel comforted. Pour some wine?_

The plain wisdom in her words forced him to abandon his dive into a pool of misery. He leaned her back, looking into her eyes, drying his own. "Yes, I think so."  He leaned in to kiss her cheek. Returning with his goblet filled, he took his seat again at her side. Taking a healthy swallow, he looked at her. "From now on, I am going to give far deeper consideration, when you issue a warning about not wishing to tell me something. Though I would rather that it were otherwise, you speak truly. And I know it. Admitting weakness is not something that goes easily with being a King.  I respect and admire you, Adonnenniel. You are clear-sighted, courageous, and determined. And disobedient," he smirked as he stroked her chin.

 _Not often, and always in your best interest, my King_ came the mischievous reply _._


	4. Healing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited, version 2.0 [ Rhiw 1-2 Imladris, November 24-25, Gregorian]

_Thranduil might I have more water?_ she asked. _I cannot seem to get enough in me._

The day had long since moved to evening, and the stars were out overhead. Though she could take small swallows fairly well, he realized that he had to think of something better. Her hunger gnawed as well as her thirst,  she was not close to being able to chew food, and she was tiring. An idea came to him, but he ruefully realized that he did not have nearly a large enough supply of fresh athelas. Nenni followed the changing expressions on his face. _What is wrong, Thranduil?_

"I need large amounts of fresh athelas, and I do not have such."

 _Thranduil, might you remember what your wife is good at?_ _If it is more athelas you need, get some, and carry me to the garden. Nothing could be simpler._

"You are able to do that, though you cannot move?" 

_I am fairly certain that it is possible. And, while we are there, I could grow a straw. It might allow me to drink more easily._

It seemed they had little to lose by trying. He bundled her in a thick fleece into his arms, and brought some fresh athelas. He carried her into the garden, under a brilliant night sky. She gasped in his arms, enchanted by the sea of stars above. _Someday, please tell me about them_ , she thought. _They are finer than diamonds._

"I will, gladly, Adonnenniel. But I fear to have you here too long, in the chill. Would you tell me what to do?"

_Find a place that seems halfway unoccupied by other plants, it doesn't matter where, as long as there is soil and not rock under your feet._

Once he'd located a suitable place, she instructed _Use your finger to poke a small hole in the soil. Place the proximal end of the plant into your little hole, and push the earth firmly around it. And then, if you could please hold me in such a way that I can see what you did._ He did as she asked.  _Just say when._ The plant multiplied into an ever increasing mass, some of which she sent back down to the soil to grow a new set of roots. In about a half a minute, there was a small hedge of athelas with abundant greenery. _More?_ she asked him.

"No I believe that will suffice. I am sorry, I became mesmerized and failed to stop you." He shook his head. It was still very strange to watch.

_I understand. There are empty baskets just a few steps away if you need a container, can you see the workbench? You can just leave me here, I won't be going anywhere._

"Adonnenniel, you are an imp," he said laughing. 

Quickly working with his knife, he harvested a large amount and crammed it into a basket. "I believe that will be plenty. You said something about a straw?"

 _Yes, can you find your way to the wheat field? It is a short way to the east._ Once there, she quickly grew up a few green stalks, paying special attention to making thick stem walls, and asked him to cut them for her. They were soon back in the warmth of the chamber, and he returned her to bed, propping her up.

_I believe you will find you can cut the green straw carefully into long enough sections that will be hollow inside. I hope I can use this to draw up more water at once, to drink._

He helped place the straw between her lips. Concentrating, she took small sips and swallows this way, at a much faster rate than spoon or cloth allowed. He could feel her relief as she truly satisfied her thirst for the first time today. He also saw her push down her hunger for food, not permitting herself the thought of it. Which made up his mind.

"Adonnenniel, if you will allow it, I wish to try a more aggressive treatment. I am going to prepare the athelas, as well as give you a cordial made from it. I will help you use the straw to drink it. You must drain the bottle. Then I wish to send you into sleep so that I may treat you further."

_Well that sounds mysterious. Of course I will allow it. I am in your hands, Thranduil. Do what seems best to you._

She closed her eyes, waiting for his return. Nenni thought she understood why he was so eager to have her sleep. She doubted she was being very successful at hiding her mounting hunger. _Though, what about broth with some raw egg yolks in it?_ she mused, sighing. _But I cannot tell the kitchens. Suck it up, cupcake._

"Ah, but I can, Adonnenniel. And that is a simple request" came the silky baritone from across the chamber. There was a pause.

 "Adonnenniel, what is a cupcake?" She snorted in helpless laughter at the question. She showed him a mental image. _They are my favorite. They are a dessert, made from sweet cake in many flavors. On top is frosting, made of butter and  sugar and flavoring. And any manner of decoration. They are nutritionally without merit whatsoever, and completely delicious._

His eyebrow shot up at the shift in her mind. It positively glowed with happiness at the thought of these cupcakes. "And why would you tell yourself to suck one up?" he puzzled.

Shaking with laughter she could not fully release, she replied. _It is an expression, an idiom. It is said to  a person who is accustomed to ease, that they must toughen themselves, in order to cope with their present circumstances. A cupcake is also a sarcastic reference to an undisciplined, spoiled person._

"I do not believe you are a cupcake, Adonnenniel." She laughed until her sides began to ache. _Please stop making me laugh, it hurts._

He rang for Galion, quietly writing out the request for broth. When the soft knock came, he quietly asked the steward to have the food prepared, strained of all solids. He returned to his work at the sideboard,  chopping the large pieces of plant down and removing any woody stems. By the time the broth arrived, he had a respectable mound of greenery mounded on the table. Thranduil thanked Galion warmly and brought her the bowl. From the first smell of it, her suppressed hunger flared up. He helped her with the straw, gently reminding her to drink slowly. He wiped away the tears of gratitude that streaked down her cheeks. _Thank you._

"You are doing very well, Adonnenniel,"  he encouraged her, stroking her hair, reassuring her. He felt her relief at having had something savory. "Are you ready for me to begin?"

_Yes._

He brought the cordial, which was in a small stoppered glass flask, placing the straw in it. "There is no need to hurry, but drink all of it," he instructed. She was getting far better at swallowing, and it did not take her long. A not unpleasant yet very strange feeling began to course through her. Her eyes widened, with  a tinge of fear. "I am going to send you to sleep, now, beloved." _Please, hold me_ , she pleaded. He could feel her mounting anxiety. "What are you afraid of, Adonnenniel? I am here, nothing can harm you." _I do not know_ , she said, her panic rising. He held her close, swiftly rendering her unconscious. He believed that she had just crossed beyond the last of her emotional strength. She would suffer no more today.

He laid out a cloth near the fireplace; this was going to be a messy undertaking. He gently laid her out in the warmth, to be sure she could not get too cold. Bringing the hot water over, he began to knead a large amount of the greenery into a paste with his bare hands. When it was sufficiently fine, he began to spread it over her, beginning with her lower jaw, throat and neck. Batch after batch he created in this way, covering sections of her body at a time and massaging it into her skin at great length. He focused on the upper part of her, making sure to coat her arms, back, chest, belly and pelvis. He especially encased her hands and forearms. It took long hours to achieve all of this. As he worked, the room filled with the scent of clean rain, until the air was charged with the virtuous smell. Ensuring she remained warm, he now began to put forth such healing power as he knew how,  beseeching the Valar for her restoration to health. Light shone around him as he worked. When he had done all he could, he undressed himself to carry her into the bath, to clean her. He made swift work of this. Drying and dressing her in a warm night garment, he carefully placed her in bed. Taking a moment to return the bowl to the table, he extinguished the candles and joined her. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her watchfully. He could go for long days without sleep at need, and it was not uncommon for him to work through the night. In his years alone, he had often done so. 

When the sky lightened in the east, she began to waken, disoriented. She found she could move, but very weakly. A burning discomfort just short of significant pain accompanied each tentative movement. It felt as though every muscle in her upper body had been worked to the breaking point. As she woke more, she realized that she outright hurt, but she could move. Coordinated motions pushed her into more pain than she preferred to feel.   _What had happened?_ She had not opened her eyes, and felt uncertain as to where she was. Did she have the flu? Forcing an eye open, she saw the furnishings of the chamber. Everything flooded back to her, and she closed her eye again. She weighed wanting to stretch and reposition herself against the likely cost of doing so. Surely she could shift her weight, to feel a little more comfortable. She struggled to do so, and the hurt took her breath away. _Nuts_ , she thought. _Now what do I do_? She desperately tried to clear the fog in her mind, still so sleepy. 

Thranduil, looking on, had seen enough. He pulled her down, slowly, into sleep again. Rising, he retrieved a large bowl of the salve for pain, and a flask of miruvor. Working under the covers, he rubbed the salve into every part of her that he'd treated last night. Gently pulling her into his arms so that she was sitting up, and keeping her warm, he very slowly awakened her. Her injured body behaved like nothing he had ever seen or heard of, and he would need to use care to bring her through this with as little to endure as possible.  For an treatable injury to resist his healing powers in the way this affliction had was difficult to reconcile. But then he closed his eyes, realizing: _Dragonfire_. He needed to know what, if any, effect the salve had, and to get the miruvor into her. 

 _Adonnenniel,_ he whispered into her mind. _You must drink more medicine now. Can you wake enough to do that?_ She sleepily tried to cooperate with him. As she moved her arms and torso weakly against him, he could feel that there was still soreness, but not the sharp pain of earlier. He would have much to do today. _Open your eyes for me?_ he asked. He saw her blink, struggling to waken. He already had the straw in the flask, and brought it to her lips. _Drink, now, Adonnenniel, until it is gone._  She complied. It was endearing to watch her struggle against the sleep he'd laid on her. Once she finished, he whispered once more. "Sleep again, meleth. When you waken next there will be tea, and something to eat." He saw her smile as she breathed deeply, and faded once again.

He rose and dressed, and rang for Galion. He sent the steward to the healers for large amounts of the pain salve, miruvor, and athelas cordial, with instructions that if any of those supplies were low, it would be prudent to start new batches immediately. He then went to the garden, to see how much athelas he might still harvest without her aid. There was as much available again as he took last night, so he gathered it up and returned. He began preparing his next mound of greenery at the work table. When he was halfway done, Galion returned with the medicines. "Do you wish breakfast, my King?" 

Thranduil thanked him and indicated what to bring. By the time Galion returned, the basket was piled high with the prepared herb. Galion laid out the sideboard, looking in wonder at the mounds of healing herbs and the medicines, but said nothing. Thranduil saw this, and his concern. "The queen has sustained difficult injuries, Galion, because she found a way to heal me from what...the dragon did. She would not want it known, that she is unwell. I believe she will fully recover, but it is requiring an unusual effort." 

The steward's mouth hung open. "You are...restored, my King?" 

"I am, Galion. You no longer look on an illusion. Though, she paid a high price to achieve it. I have been greatly blessed, and I will remain here until she also is fully healed."  

The steward bowed. "My Lord. It is my greatest wish to see you both in the fullness of health. I take my leave, if there is nothing else you require?" 

Smiling, Thranduil saw him out. He sat and ate, thinking how to best manage his next set of treatments. The gravity of her injuries was revealed by the effects of the athelas; that so powerful a dosage had not achieved a full remission of her symptoms was astounding. The force of what passed through her must have been at the exact limit from which an elven body could recover. He puzzled over the restoration of her ability to move, and its associated pain. Whether or not it made sense, he was thankful that the treatments were working, even if it was far slower than he would have expected. And that she could swallow normally, and likely eat, was an immense achievement. He would need to repeat the use of the athelas paste on her legs. As he idly swirled his tea, he recalled the events of the previous day, and how much he had yet to understand about the garden. Adonnenniel played it like a harp, by comparison. One idle negative thought, and he'd sickened her. He sat upright. _One idle negative thought had sickened her._ _Yet their lovemaking had restored her to health. Was it possible, by the expression of love and joy, to affect her body toward health?_ She'd told him that the garden answered to him as well. _There is very little to lose and possibly much to gain by trying_ , he thought. _It will be warm there, in a few hours' time._

He heard and felt her stirring again. She was struggling to push herself up, in discomfort and inadequate strength. He quickly went to her, pulling her up into his arms. She frowned, not opening her eyes, as one hand closed lightly over his arm. Her face turned into his chest, as if trying to hide herself there. Though she was physically far better off than yesterday, he could sense a profound change in her feelings. The strength of her spirit had been finally consumed by her ordeal. _Even the strongest are not without limits_ , he thought.  That she has been sent in and out of sleep by him, so many times, and been subject to many strong treatments, also contributed. Every fiber of her mind and body had been  used beyond its limits. He held her to him, reassuring her. 

"When you are ready, Adonnenniel, there is tea and food. Or the heated pool, or remaining as you are. I will not leave you." 

She heard these things, and found even these simple choices to be overwhelming. Her thoughts were confused, and the weakness of her limbs brought up a profound sadness. She began to cry, not even understanding why, and vaguely despised her own weakness. "Adonnenniel, do you wish to sleep again?" he asked.  

 _No._ _Please, let me stay here_ , as she continued to cry. He felt her hand tighten on his arm. He rocked her gently, sending her his love, rubbing her back in slow circles. She quieted at last, and was silent for a time. 

_I am not amounting to much, if having to decide between tea and doing nothing causes such a response. I do not understand what is wrong with me, Thranduil. I am not myself right now._

He laughed softly, holding her tightly. "Can you open your eyes?" he asked. Blinking, she complied, working to focus her blurred vision. With effort, she turned to look at him. 

He smiled gently, his clear blue eyes sparkling at her as he teased, "Adonnenniel, you were killed yesterday, without being permitted to die. I think you might expect that there would be some small effects afterward." 

She chortled, finally able to laugh freely, though the sound was rough from dehydration. Her voice cracked in a whisper. "Well, if you put it that way." Her face twisted into a wry smile, and she sighed. "I supposed you have a point."

After another long pause came _I am thirsty and hungry_. He stood up, to look for a robe in her own wardrobe, and discovered to his annoyance that she possessed no such garment. He would soon rectify that. He helped her into his own, rolling up the sleeves for her so that she would not entirely drown in it. His body heat had left it wonderfully warm, and it was spiced with the scent of him. She gathered the fabric to her face and inhaled deeply. He looked on, amused, until he perceived that his scent calmed and comforted her. He carried her to the table, explaining. "We will need to discover  your progress, as you take refreshment. I will help you to drink and eat." He placed her gently into a chair, ensuring that she was supported on all sides. "Are you strong enough to stay seated in the chair, to keep yourself  sitting up?"  Nenni nodded. He went to the sideboard, to make her tea, adding some milk to cool it faster. Bringing the cup to her, he placed it on the table. "Can you pick up the cup?"

She raised her arms slowly to the tabletop. They felt heavy, sluggish. She slid both of her hands to the cup, trying to lock it between her fingers, and then pulled it toward her to the edge of the table. She began to lower her head toward the cup. Perceiving what she was attempting, she felt Thranduil lace his fingers through her hair at the back of her head, while using his other hand to steady the cup. He let her do the work, acting as a safeguard against a spill. Using her forearms against the table to steady herself, she slowly raised the cup to her lips. Delighted that she could swallow easily, she greedily drained the cup, and set it back down as carefully as she could manage. She raised her head back up, her muscles shaking with the effort. He did not have to ask if she wanted more, refilling her cup.  

"I will bring the cup to you, this time. If you can, hold onto it with me, as you drink." He grasped it firmly as he brought it to her lips, giving her time to raise her hands to his. She was struggling, and her hands and arms trembled with the effort. In the end, she locked her curled fingers around his, grappling  for support on his arms far more than doing anything to actually help her drink. Once again, she consumed the tea swiftly.  He knew that soon, frustration would come from too many challenges; she was very weak. He brought a bowl of hot porridge to her. "First we will make sure you can swallow this easily, and if so, I will add in flavorings." He brought a spoonful of it to her mouth, which she easily managed. 

Her face grimaced. "Needs everything," she said, imagining honey and butter, milk and fruit. 

He laughed. "You like sweets, do you?"

Thranduil was unprepared for the barrage of images that came from her. He did not recognize much of what he was seeing, but a parade of cookies, pies, chocolates, tarts, candies, cakes, ices, and every imaginable confection of her former life swirled past him.   _Sorry about that. Yes, I did. Do. It is for the best that most of these things are not available here. It was a problem._ She sighed. He felt her freeze as she thought _Pie. Pie is entirely possible here. And tarts...._

He laughed freely. "I pity the kitchen staff, once you are fully recovered, Adonnenniel." She smiled dully, watching him as he made improvements to her porridge, and resumed feeding her. 

 _Is it strange for you, the change in your vision?_ she asked him. 

"It is," he replied, "and wholly welcome. You cannot imagine what a gift this is for me. I had long accepted the loss of my eye as irreparable, and learned to manage without it."

 _Actually, I can imagine._ Nenni showed him the eyesight she had had one time, on earth. Of how her world was an unfocused blur, unless something was held just a few inches in front of her face. _My heart is filled with gladness, that your sight is restored fully to you._

"I did not know," he said. "And yet you were not like this when you arrived here. What happened?" 

 _The doctors, healers, of Earth gained the skill needed to correct eyesight by use of surgery._ She showed him the principle of the operation, that used a laser to change the cornea of the eye. 

"That is an astonishing skill. Though human lives are short, they have learned to do much that we elves have not."  

_Your ways are better. They work in harmony with Arda. Every skill that was gained on earth came at a price; something else was destroyed or worsened to make it possible. I am more at peace with life as it is lived here. The surgery I had returned perfect vision to me, but as I aged on Earth, it began to falter again, a little. As I transformed here, I eventually noticed that my sight was once again perfect. Better, even; I can see at greater distance than before._

"Aged? How old were you, in Earth reckoning?" he asked _._

 _I was forty five. Or perhaps it is now forty six, my birthday would have been not long ago. I was at the mid-point of my life there, assuming I was granted the good fortune to live a long while. It is hard to know what longevity will be. Some of my friends had already died. Many do not reach seventy. Ninety is a good goal, barring disease or accident. How odd; now I do not know what I am._ She turned to look in his eyes again, as she chewed on a piece of apple. _I am afraid to ask you the same question, I know you have lived thousands of years. Do you even keep count?_

"I do, meleth. I was born in the year 200 of the First Age of the Sun, in Doriath. My Begetting Day was the first of Ethuil, the first day of Spring." He paused, concerned about how she would react to this. "I am six thousand, eight hundred and forty four years old, in the reckoning of the Edain." 

Nenni looked back at him, as she tried to think on this. _My experience is too limited to really comprehend so many years of life. It is much like when I tried to understand what was known about the stars and the galaxies in the universe; the numbers are too large for me to fully grasp. But I can be aware that one day, I may have the means by which to understand better. I think of my own short life, of the many experiences. It is difficult to imagine the weight of life, the changes, the learning, that would occur in so great a span of years. And that I am here with you at all...it threatens to make my head explode._ She suddenly felt very small, as he knew she would. She felt his hand on her chin. 

"Do not allow yourself to feel less, Adonnenniel. Most of those years, you should have been at my side. It was taken, from both of us, through no fault of our own. We can only rejoice that we are restored, and that our future is returned to us. I love you, with all that I am." He kissed her softly on her cheek. "Adonnenniel, you do not remember, but I do. Your own Begetting was on  the twentieth of Iavas. The same day," he said, "on which you were returned to me."

_How old was I?_

He looked on her, his eyes full of sympathy. "We were begotten in the same year, Adonnenniel, and knew each other from birth. We married young, by the standards of our people. There was never a question in the minds of any, that we would unite." He lowered his eyes. "I have loved you for all of my life."

She froze. He would not tell her something that was untrue, yet her mind retreated from the words. Or rather, it retreated from having to consider what had been lost to her; to both of them. There was no memory, of anything he said.  Thranduil saw her blink back a tear.  He reached into her mind, gently guiding her thoughts away from this subject. He should not have told her this, in her current state. He felt her relaxing, resuming her concentration on eating. But then one last thought popped into her head. _Did you ever see it, Thranduil? The great necklace of the Dwarves, the Nauglafring?_

His eyes widened in surprise. That she could know the things she did, and yet have no memories... "Yes, _meleth_. I saw it, once. I was very young, then." 

_Then you saw a Silmaril, with your own eyes. Would you show me your memory?_

Thranduil obliged her, and she gasped. He felt her awe and saw her hand move, as if to reach out for what was in her mind. _This exceeds my poorest imaginings; the beauty is without rival. And to think what was done, to win the Silmaril. Yet in the end it brought kingdoms to ruin and extinguished lives. Great gems are a dangerous mistress; they are only safe with a selfless heart._   _I have long wondered, what it must have looked like. How sad that the jewel was not given over to restore the Two Trees, instead. Those were of far greater worth than a necklace._ Her reverie broke. "I am sorry," she whispered. "I promise I will finish this porridge now without continuing to interrupt you." She realized he was staring at her. _Did I say something wrong?_ she asked nervously. 

"No, you said nothing wrong. I am humbled at how you understand in forty six years what I could not understand for more than six thousand. You can possess such things without them possessing you. I took inexcusably long to learn this lesson."

 _It isn't the age, it's the mileage, Thranduil. You made it there in the end. And here we are._ She smiled at him. _The porridge?_

"You are incorrigible, Adonnenniel. There are just a few spoonsful left."

_Am I right, that you have not had to spoon feed someone since your son was a newborn?_

"Yes, meleth _._ And then as now, the reward I received on account of it was beyond gold or jewels." With smug satisfaction, he noted that he had won at least that round of their verbal banter.

"May I have one more cup of tea?" she asked him. As he brought it to her, she said "I will try to drink it on my own." He placed it in front of her. With great concentration, she managed to lift the cup halfway to her mouth, but then her muscles started to involuntarily tremble. She lowered it again, before the liquid could  spill, glowering in frustration.   _Help me as you did before, please?_  

He raised the cup to her lips, admiring that she'd tried. He picked her up carefully from the chair, returning her to bed. "Meleth, you are going to have a busy day, but we can be flexible about it." He went on to explain that he had treated her through much of the night and early morning, and that he needed to evaluate what healing had taken place, and where. He would need to continue treating her, intending to try to do part or all of his work in the garden. Would she like a bath first, or rest? 

 _Did you ever sleep last night?_ Stroking her hair, he replied, "Perhaps a tiny bit. You must realize that before you returned to me, there were many evenings I did not sleep. I do not require nightly sleep, but have taken up with it again in order to enjoy being near you. As time goes by and you settle into your elven body, you also will sleep less.  My body is much stronger than yours, and with much more endurance."

_I see. Your parents did not give you your name merely because of the Springtime in which you were begotten, then. I will try not to be jealous. Though, I rather am._

He laughed. "I think you have established that you have strengths I lack, Adonnenniel."

 _Yes, but another person's strengths always seem more interesting that one's own. The grass is always greener, and all that. Anyway,  to answer your question, we may as well forge on with the healing work. A bath later would be lovely, assuming you don't need to render me unconscious again._ She paused. _Will it hurt?_

"It should not, but the damage to you is outside of my experience. It is not ordinary, and while you are making progress, it is slow. I do not intend for you to suffer any further."

_I'm not a complete shrinking violet. Can you allow me that I will tell you if it is too much for me to bear, in which case do as you must? This interests me, and I would like to see what is done._

"We can try. I do not take your pain away because I do not believe you cannot endure it, but because it slows the healing process. Pain is another form of injury, and the prevention of it is nearly as important as the healing itself. It is my belief that your exposure to extreme pain caused much of your enervation. So we can see what happens, but if you begin to hurt too much, we will lose ground if I do not block it by one means or another."

_Interesting. Anyway. How do we begin?_

"I need to know what body parts, if any, you still have no control over. Even if you can cause something to make the merest twitch, tell me."

 _Very well. Starting at the top...._ Thranduil watched in fascination as she did an organized evaluation of her entire body. Fairly quickly, she reported: _I have flexion and extension on all muscles above my thighs, with significant weakness. Somewhere between my knees and my hips, there remains a total loss of function._ She looked at him, waiting for more instruction.

"Are you in any pain, anywhere? Even if it is what you would usually call 'soreness' ?" 

_There is a low level of discomfort almost everywhere that can move. Maybe a 1.5 on the scale. Not significant, but present._

"What does '1.5 on the scale' mean?"  he asked, puzzled. 

_Oh, sorry. It is a common method by which to assess pain on Earth. The patient is asked, with 0 being no pain and 10 being the worst pain imaginable, to rate their experience.  But why are you asking, when you can look in on my mind and see?_

"Because I need to be certain, that is why. We will go to the garden, then, in the warm sun. I need to prepare large amounts of athelas. You may need to grow more for me. I need you unclothed for much of the work; it is another reason I sent you to sleep last night, so that you would not be uncomfortable or cold. I will bring you there, then return here for a moment for hot water and medicines."

Gathering a covering and a pillow, he brought her near to the athelas hedge, and laid her down gently. It was yet early and still slightly cool, so he ensured she was covered and warm.

_There is a flask for water on the desk in my chamber; if you would please bring it with you, filled, I will not have to keep bothering you every time I am thirsty._

He nodded, leaving her. Nenni sighed, as he exited the door. She felt her cheeks redden in embarrassment...the great Elvenking, having to be nursemaid to an invalid. While she didn't know what she could have done differently in order to effect the same outcome, her helpless circumstances were distasteful. She hated not knowing how long this might drag on. He had knit her broken bones so easily, and now five times that effort had accomplished so little. His love and care of her were as much as anyone could hope for; yet she was keenly aware that he could be doing so many more important things with his time. 

Idly, she looked at the athelas hedge, and decided to grow it into topiary. She was fiddling with the trunk position of the small oliphaunt she'd created, deciding to allow the appendage to wave in the breeze,  when he returned. He stopped in his tracks, on seeing the creation. Recovering himself, he closed the distance and set down his materials on a tray. He'd already made a paste of the extra athelas from last night, as there had yet been so much of it prepared. 

_Thranduil, I think I hear your crown calling you. Did you ever bring in your crown and clothes, that you removed before we made love yesterday?_

The look on his face was unfathomable, as he retrieved his belongings. Returning, he knelt down, bringing his face very close to hers. Fixing her with his kind and laughing eyes as he stroked her hair, he said "Adonnenniel. I am afraid your musings are not safe from me, even at some distance now. I do not have more important things to do with my time. I will admit this is difficult to heal, but it is not impossible. Do not feel embarrassed. I would do anything for you, and this is very little."  She could feel herself flushing red, pinned down by his gaze. 

 _Well I won't be living that down anytime soon, will I?_ she groaned. _I surrender._ Laughing with mirth, Thranduil kissed her. Desire she did not anticipate flooded through her, but she forced herself to  remain passive. She still felt confused and chagrined.

 "I think you can manage a better surrender than that," he said, kissing her again. She felt a second surge of desire and could not fight against it. Reaching to cling to his sleeves, she returned his kiss hungrily. She felt her body surging with heat, wanting him. He abruptly pulled her up to a sitting position, holding her there. "I want you to drink all of this", he said, holding a small flask to her lips. "It is more of the athelas cordial."

She did as he asked, and when he sensed she was almost done, he resumed his kisses on her neck and throat. Just as quickly, she felt the heat in her rising again. It felt wonderful, yet uncharacteristic. He'd placed her in the perfect state of mind to not overly question the sensations flooding her body. He teased her slowly, relentlessly, filling her with his thoughts of happiness and joy. Thoroughly distracted, she could only flail along as her desire mounted under his touches, hoping he would relieve her. She had never been more helpless against his seductions that she was at this moment. He swiftly undressed, and reached over for the paste of athelas. He began to apply it to her limbs, this time starting with her feet. Every few moments he would reach up to tease her with a finger, kiss her deeply, or massage her breasts. He kept up this perfectly timed cadence of lovemaking and the athelas, until he had spread and worked it over all of her. The sun had risen higher, warming her skin even as more heat filled her from the inside. Feeling that the cordial had spread through her, he covered her with his body. Entering her gently, he began moving inside of her. He poured out his love and gratitude for what she'd done for him, adding in his happiness to have her with him, and his determination to fully heal her. He did not waver from this focus as he worked to stoke her desire, following her ascent toward pleasure. He understood the earth beneath him now, and felt its magic well up to him, through her body. What he sensed she wanted, he gladly gave to her, until she was trembling beneath him for release. Thrusting hard, he felt her orgasm begin and climaxed as well. He felt her legs arch, and heard her cry out as both the pleasure of her body and the discomfort of her newly awakened limbs hit her at once. He did not send her to sleep, but he did block out almost all of the burning in her extremities. When her enjoyment had subsided, he sat her up, covered her, and brought the _miruvor_ to her lips. Though she was still reeling, he asked her to drink it down. She clung to him to try to stop the involuntary shaking in her arms, and drank. When she'd finished it, he lifted her up, carrying her back to their chambers. He entered the pool with her quickly, before her body could lose its warmth. Holding her, he slowly rubbed her clean of the athelas while massaging her, testing to see whether she was in discomfort that needed blocking. While she was not asleep, she was deeply relaxed and had relinquished herself to his care. Her mind was silent. At last taking her out and drying her, he wrapped her warmly and returned to the garden with her. Laying her out in the warm sunshine where he'd loved her, he began to rub the pain salve into her limbs, beginning with the newly restored areas. By the time he had finished, the sun was high overhead. Still she rested peacefully. Bundling her in the blanket, he grabbed her water flask and the pillow as he lifted her up, carrying her to the bower. He placed her on her side, her head on the pillow, and laid down next to her. He pulled her to his body and covered them both lightly, as this was a shadier place in the dappled sunshine. In the perfumed air, she relaxed and drifted into a deep sleep. He allowed himself to join her, feeling happy, and hopeful.


	5. Convalescence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited, version 2.0 [Rhiw 2, Imladris, November 25, Gregorian]  
> This chapter was hellaciously tedious to write, and maybe it will be the same to read. It is meant to be an ongoing exploration of the very real experience of serious/protracted mental/physical illness and recovery.  
> If you would like to hear The Lady of Shallot (Loreena McKennitt) https://youtu.be/k0rVNQw1DQM  
> "Gratitude is heaven itself." -William Blake "  
> Take from my heart all thankfulness" -Shakespeare

Nenni woke feeling energized,  with little discomfort. Flexing her fingers, she found that they were far stronger than before. Still not normal, but a vast improvement. The steady breathing of Thranduil next to her caused her to turn look at him; he appeared to be sound asleep. Watching him still squeezed her heart; it was precious to her, this chance to drink in his beautiful form without awkwardness or inadvertently behaving like a silly schoolgirl. His appearance was so very lovely, yet commanding.  Like a powerful angel, asleep. And it became more so in her eyes all the time, as her days with him revealed the beauty within as well.

 _Sleep is the least he deserves after doing so much for me_. Eager to discover how much better her body might be working, she carefully rolled away so as not to wake him. She stretched her legs, and realized that they did not equal the strength in her hands. _They were not remotely at full strength, but perhaps she could walk a few steps on her own?_  Nenni thought carefully. Falling would mean she could not rise on her own. She needed a support. 

 _The answer is all around you, idiot_ , she reproached herself. Looking to the tree above she caused a twig to fall, and then grew it until a staff had formed. Holding onto this, she moved off the bed of moss and flowers, but then spotted the water flask near him. She drained it, feeling extremely happy to guzzle the water without assistance, and then carefully tested out standing. This was a clear success, much to her joy. Sensing that she should be able to take normal steps,  it was still uncertain how far she could go before her legs failed. It would probably be much like her arms had been earlier; well enough for a moment but then unpredictably shaking with fatigue. Her steps took her some yards past the bower, which was better than she had expected might happen. The next few motions were much harder, as the anticipated weakness and twitching set in. One of her rose-covered arches was nearby; she decided that she would rest there. Yet her feet did not move forward twice more, when both legs gave out from under her. Hanging onto the staff broke her fall. Annoyed, she forced her legs to cooperate enough to crawl the last few feet. Leaning up, sitting against the rough stone, she smiled at the achievement. Placing the staff across her lap , she began idly creating ornaments and decoration on the wood. The warm sunshine gloriously warming her skin, she quietly decided to test the one thing that she had feared to lose above all others; her voice. She would rather never walk again than never sing again, if there was a choice. Though, either would be horrible. Softly she began to hum and try out all the other little exercises that would check her vocal apparatus. To her great relief, all seemed well. Feeling suddenly reflective and a little sad, her mind drifted to a favorite song she'd not given thought to since she came here. _I only wanted to do what was best for him, and while I cannot regret my decision, what a mess things seem to be._ As melancholy filled her, the song began.

At that moment, Thranduil woke to find himself alone. He was within a split second of calling out to her when he heard her voice, both with his ears and inside of his mind. He perceived her sadness, and a wish to release something. He remained still, and listened, feeling that there would be something to be learned in the song.

_On either side the river lie  Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the wold and meet the sky;  And through the field the road runs by  To many-towered Camelot;  And up and down the people go, Gazing where the lilies blow Round an island there below,  The island of Shalott._

_Willows whiten, aspens quiver,  Little breezes dusk and shiver  Through the wave that runs for ever By the island in the river Flowing down to Camelot.   Four grey walls, and four grey towers, Overlook a space of flowers, And the silent isle imbowers  The Lady of Shalott._

_Only reapers, reaping early  In among the bearded barley,  Hear a song that echoes cheerly  From the river winding clearly,   Down to towered Camelot:_ _And by the moon the reaper weary,  Piling sheaves in uplands airy,  Listening, whispers "'Tis the fairy  Lady of Shalott."_

_There she weaves by night and day A magic web with colours gay.  She has heard a whisper say,  A curse is on her if she stay  To look down to Camelot.  She knows not what the curse may be,  And so she weaveth steadily,  And little other care hath she,  The Lady of Shalott._

_And moving through a mirror clear  That hangs before her all the year,  Shadows of the world appear.  There she sees the highway near Winding down to Camelot:_ _And sometimes through the mirror blue  The knights come riding two and two:  She hath no loyal knight and true, The Lady of Shalott._

_But in her web she still delights To weave the mirror's magic sights,   For often through the silent nights A funeral, with plumes and lights  And music, went to Camelot:  Or when the moon was overhead, Came two young lovers lately wed;  "I am half sick of shadows," said The Lady of Shalott._

_A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,  He rode between the barley-sheaves, The sun came dazzling through the leaves,  And flamed upon the brazen greaves Of bold Sir Lancelot.  A red-cross knight for ever kneeled  To a lady in his shield,  That sparkled on the yellow field,  Beside remote Shalott._

_His broad clear brow in sunlight glowed;  On burnished hooves his war-horse trode;  From underneath his helmet flowed  His coal-black curls as on he rode,  As he rode down to Camelot.  From the bank and from the river He flashed into the crystal mirror, "Tirra lirra," by the river  Sang Sir Lancelot._

_She left the web, she left the loom,  She made three paces through the room,  She saw the water-lily bloom,  She saw the helmet and the plume,  She looked down to Camelot.  Out flew the web and floated wide;  The mirror cracked from side to side; "The curse is come upon me," cried The Lady of Shalott._

_In the stormy east-wind straining, The pale yellow woods were waning, The broad stream in his banks complaining,  Heavily the low sky raining  Over towered Camelot;  Down she came and found a boat Beneath a willow left afloat,_ _And round about the prow she wrote The Lady of Shalott._

_And down the river's dim expanse,  Like some bold seër in a trance  Seeing all his own mischance-- With a glassy countenance  Did she look to Camelot. And at the closing of the day  She loosed the chain, and down she lay;  The broad stream bore her far away,  The Lady of Shalott._

_Heard a carol, mournful, holy, Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,  Till her blood was frozen slowly,  And her eyes were darkened wholly,  Turned to towered Camelot. For ere she reached upon the tide The first house by the water-side,  Singing in her song she died, The Lady of Shalott._

_Under tower and balcony, By garden-wall and gallery,  A gleaming shape she floated by,  Dead-pale between the houses high,  Silent into Camelot.  Out upon the wharfs they came,  Knight and burgher, lord and dame,  And round the prow they read her name, The Lady of Shalott._

_Who is this? and what is here? And in the lighted palace near Died the sound of royal cheer;  And they crossed themselves for fear,  All the knights at Camelot: But Lancelot mused a little space;  He said, "She has a lovely face;  God in his mercy lend her grace, The Lady of Shalott."_

Sighing deeply, she reflected.  _Choices and disobedience_.

As Thranduil followed the story, he saw the images in her mind as she sang, of an extraordinarily beautiful woman in the rich landscapes being described.  He made his way over to her, silently, so as not to distract. He found the tale compelling, the music beautiful, and the ending tragic and deeply unfair.

When her eyes opened he was standing quite near her, and reached out to him. "I hope I did not wake you?" she asked. "I am sorry if I did, I meant to be quiet." 

He sat next to her, holding her. "You did not wake me. Meleth, I do not understand. What did the woman in your song do, that she deserved such a fate?" 

Nenni thought before answering. This was a question many asked, on reading or hearing the poem. "For the first time in her life, she saw her own heart's desire, and gave in to it. She was struck down for disobedience, for placing  love above her duty."

"But it was an unjust punishment. She merely looked out of the window," Thranduil said.

"Yet, it was disobedience. Your comment captures exactly why I cannot forget the poem. It reminds me that life is not always fair; and that at times, there are terrible consequences for doing what one truly believes one must. The Lady did not actually exist; she was a metaphor for what was believed to be the proper place of a woman and her responsibilities. Honestly, it is sad and awful, but so beautifully described that it has always drawn me in."

He reflected on her state of mind. "Meleth, you do not believe that you deserve your injuries for disobeying me, do you?" he asked.

"In the sense that you are asking, no, I do not believe that. But it does not escape my sense of irony that had I done as you asked, I would not now be in this predicament.  Do not be concerned; it is my nature to over-think just about everything.  While I can rarely stop the over-thinking, I try not to take myself too seriously."

Tentative fingers reached for his hand. "Thranduil, I do not plan to make a habit of disregarding you.  You are my King, and I promised to be subject to you. But in this case, I could not do otherwise. I know that you understand why, and hope you will pardon me." Nenni lowered her eyes, fairly certain of his response; and yet, unwilling to presume on his decision.  She felt the familiar curl of his fingers under her chin, and looked up again. He felt her trepidation; genuine regret for this aspect of what she'd done, and did not take it for granted that he would excuse her behavior. 

"Adonnenniel, I would be the worst sort of hypocrite to accept the good that you have done for me, and punish you for having done so. Your heart is an honest one, and no one who loves another would have chosen differently.  If you need to hear that I pardon you, then know that you are pardoned. Yet, I found no fault in the first place."

"I did need to hear it. Thank you."

At that moment, her stomach chose to growl with spectacular loudness. "It sounds as though it is well past time for lunch," he said, amused. He rose, scooping her up with him. "You must be able to walk, at least somewhat?" Thranduil asked.

She laughed. "Somewhat, yes. My arms and upper body are much better; not normal but closer to it. My legs are not too far off how my arms were this morning; there is weakness. I feel little discomfort, it seems encouraging. I walked most of the way to this spot, with the help of the staff."

As he carried her inside, she could not help but quip, "Your healing techniques are entirely remarkable. I may have to become injured more often just to enjoy them." Nenni laughed as he rolled his eyes. "In seriousness, though, it was mesmerizing. I cannot remember the last time I witnessed that kind of coordination. It was like watching dancing."

"I am certain you dance well yourself, meleth, but thank you."

"Ah, no. I do not know how. As a young child I learned a little, and forgot all of it. I think I would like to, but there was no occasion for it in my life. I loved to watch ballet, though. So beautiful." 

"We shall have to correct that. There are many festivals we celebrate, all of which have dancing," he said, stepping into their chambers.

"They do?" her voice dropped to a fear-tinged whisper as a tidal wave of panic washed over her. The thought of both required dancing in public coupled with what sounded very much like a huge party immediately sent her into a tailspin. "Could I please sit in the hot water for awhile?" she asked, barely audibly. He sensed that another emotional shift had occurred, but did not know why.

As they were both still unclothed, he walked into the heated water and  seated her on his lap, holding her. He could feel a mounting struggle against panic and anxiety in her, as she tried not to cry, and that the battle was almost lost. He smothered her anxiety and fear, rather than let this go on any longer. She was recovering well; such emotions were the last thing needed. When he did this, she wrapped her arms around him, holding tightly. She was trying to breathe slower; trying to anchor herself against a feeling that the room was spinning around her.  Finally, she relaxed somewhat. _I am so sorry_. He could feel her shame, worthlessness and sadness, and none of it made any sense.

 _Can you help me to understand?_ he whispered into her mind. There was a long silence.

 _I can try, but no one should ever understand it._ _It is an illness of the mind, of how a person thinks and reacts. I have long been afflicted with different problems related to anxiety. I become intensely fearful at the thought of certain social situations, and the emotions rapidly give way to very uncomfortable physical symptoms. I will cry uncontrollably, combined with a sense of not being able to breathe. It is as if a heavy person were standing on my chest. This does not happen to me often, now. I've worked hard to learn to manage it. There were people on Earth dedicated to healing illnesses of the mind; I sought what help I was able to find. Sometimes, I almost feel like I've succeeded.  Obviously, I have not. Because I do not know how to dance, the idea of being expected to do so, and at a large gathering of people, set me off. When I am unable to stop my fear and panic, I am ashamed that I cannot control myself. I feel like only a worthless person would react so badly to things that are supposed to be fun and joyful. I understand that these incorrect feelings are part of the illness. But this condition operates in a place of emotion, not logic. There is a profound disconnect between what I know to be true and what I feel is true at the moment._

Her eyes were full of misery as she looked up, but then hardened. _I want so very much, to not be like this.  I did not ask to be damaged. All I can do is to keep trying. I promise you, that I will always keep trying._ With that, she gently pushed away from him, and after taking a very deep breath, dove beneath the water.  Surfacing for more air, she returned to the bottom, suddenly desirous of a comfort she had long forgotten. Slowly, she twisted her frame to  spin around on the long axis of her body, feeling the water swirl around her, the tendrils of her unbound hair gently caressing her. Long ago, she used to do this, it soothed and calmed her as all other sensations were driven from her mind. She opened herself to the feel of the sensuously warm water; deliberately losing the awareness of up or down, sight or sound. Her momentary calm was interrupted by the feel of his strong hands around her, bringing her back to the surface. She opened her eyes, very surprised. _Thranduil?_

"My connection to you was lost when you went under the water. When you did not return to the surface, I was uneasy. I have never seen you do this before." His eyes were worried. 

_I am sorry, I did not mean to cause you concern._

He watched her begin to climb the steps out of the pool, when her legs suddenly decided otherwise. He caught her before she could fall, and pulled her to his arms. Looking at him wide-eyed, she stammered, "Thank you. In the water I felt normal, and I forgot that I am ....not. That was stupid of me." Nenni fell silent as he carried her out, wrapping her in a towel and giving her a second one for her hair. He seated her on the bed, and rang the bell to ask for a meal to be brought. She dried herself, and wrapped her hair in the towel, twisting it up on her head so that it could absorb most of the water. There were no clothes for her, so she waited. When he returned and caught sight of her, he had a look of astonishment, having never seen such a headdress. _It is to dry my hair,_ as her cheeks flushed red with the sense that she'd already failed to meet behavioral standards too many times today.

"Show me how this is done, please," he asked. The towel came off, she hung her head down, re-wrapped and twisted the towel as she raised her head. _This seems to absorb the most water the fastest from long hair, so I've always done this._ From her deepest subconscious, she forced her mind to blank silence as she watched him do the same. It was functional, and he need never know that it was a feminine habit. Taking it all down again, she used the drier sections to rub out her hair a bit more, then waited patiently so that he could dry his hair and dress first.

"Would you let me comb out your hair for you?" she asked hopefully. An attempt was made to hide her happiness when he handed over the comb, and sat with his back to her. Even damp, his hair was so soft. With care she gathered and held it tightly so that she could not hurt him from snags or tangles, and started from the bottom. But there were none; it combed out as though a case of conditioner had been applied. Which seemed entirely unfair. All the times she tried to grow her hair long on Earth, only to have it turn into a mess of split ends and knots until her beloved short bob was the only path left to sanity. The combing did not last nearly as long as she would have wished. "Thank you for indulging me. May I use this comb also?" 

He turned and smiled at her. "You would deny me the same pleasure?" he said. 

Her face fell. "I didn't mean...here" she silenced herself, handing him the comb, feeling her cheeks flush as she turned her back.  She hadn't felt this mentally volatile in a long time, and wished it would go back to whatever hole out of which it had crawled. 

 _Could you just relax, for a change_? the Little Voice said. 

_Oh, shut it, what do you think I'm trying to do? Could you be any less helpful?_

_I was just making a suggestion_ , needled the Little Voice. 

 _I'm not listening, Captain Obvious. Go away,_ Nenni thought back.  

 _Fine,_ said the little voice with overwhelming smugness, _But before I do, you know perfectly well why you are feeling this way. So ask him to help you, or would you prefer to spend the whole day becoming  more unstable?_  

Her shoulders sank in defeat.   _He already knows._

As Thranduil followed this exchange, he did not know whether to feel amused or worried. Some of the things in her head seemed...alarming...and yet he had no standard for comparison except for his own thoughts. It wasn't like he had ever had this kind of mental intimacy with another. At the conclusion, it seemed plain enough that she struggled. He stopped the combing, to kneel in front of her, taking her hands. He spoke gently. "Adonnenniel, I know it is wearying to have to continually have to ask another for aid. You are not bothering me. You were taxed beyond the strength of your body and mind, and there is no shame in your struggles now. Tell me what you need. If I can assist you, I will."

A sense of miserable failure swelled in her mind. _Take away my feelings, all of them.  I am overreacting to the most insignificant things. It is getting worse, and I will soon break down completely.  Please, help me._ She hung her head. Thranduil stood up, kissing her forehead, and seated himself next to her. He pulled her into his embrace, and she felt nothing. No emotion was now possible.  _Thank you,_ she sent to him, _t_ _hank you._

He dressed her in simple breeches and a tunic, with some warm socks. Her improved mobility made this task considerably easier. After dressing himself, he finished combing her hair. It was not so straight as his own, but it was now longer; there was a slight wave to it, near the bottom. The dark copper red in contrast to her striking gray eyes was beautiful to him. He remembered when her body had golden hair the color of his own, but it did not matter to him. In a way, this flaming red hair was a fitting symbol. They had both endured fire. Her eyes and her fae were unchanged, and he loved her. He heard Galion bring in their meal, and allowed him to finish at the table. She would not wish to see any others today.  He puzzled in his mind, what to do for her. He would heal her of this if he could, but the constant suppression of these emotions was not an answer. Or was it? Was physical pain so different from emotional pain?  They stamped out the former aggressively, knowing that it created more damage. Perhaps a limited period of time, in which she could feel nothing, later followed by careful monitoring to stop harmful emotions, could help her? She had spent so long bathed in evil thoughts and feelings, the real miracle was that she still had so much light and goodness.

He invited her to the table, and helped her walk while holding his arm. This was a good effort, though the first signs of faltering came once she reached her chair. 

"You will have to treat my body again, at least once more, won't you," she said, more as a statement than a question. "It might make sense, for me to add in a section in that garden for healing herbs. It would be a guarantee against a lack of supplies, I think." Her tone was wooden, compared to usual, and there was no sparkle or animation to her words. But there was also no pain or misery.

"Yes, Adonnenniel, I believe so. You are making excellent progress, and I intend to keep trying  what I can until you are restored." There was no expression in her eyes, as he spoke to her.

"The smell of the food...I did not realize I was so hungry. What did Galion bring? It is strange, to no longer cook. Did you ever learn to cook, Thranduil?"

Surprise came over him, at the question. "I cannot say that I have more than the most remedial skills. Princes and Kings...do not ever do this work. So my only exposure was the simplest preparations, done in times of warfare. And even then, there were others whose duty it was to care for such things."

"We would have called such a one 'a person who can't boil an egg,' on Earth. But I understand. None of the great kings or any other sort of ruler would ever have this skill set. Yet it is a pity, in a way...it is enjoyable; both an art and a science, requiring much skill and attention to detail. Maybe I shall build my own kitchen, in the garden, at some point. In all my spare time," she added mechanically. "There will be production schedules to meet, and much work of another sort."

Thranduil followed her musings and saw her memories of the cob ovens and firepit, grill, and other simple yet effective devices that she had built. And how even now she was considering in what outlandish shape she might construct another small oven. His uncovering of the food dishes broke her train of thought. There were fish, vegetables,  bread and cheese.  The trout was swimming in some kind of savory sauce; it was attractively presented. She thanked him for filling her plate, and ate steadily. As she mopped up the last molecules of sauce from her plate with bread and a slice of cheese, he offered her more. She took seconds of all of it. 

"Would you tell me something of your life long ago? I know only the name of your father.  And," she added softly, "I am sorry, that you are parted from him." 

He lifted his goblet of wine to his lips, drinking deeply. He raised his eyes to hers and asked in a level voice, "What do you wish to know?" 

Nenni heard the perhaps too-even tone of his reply, and corrected herself. "I do not wish to ask anything that would cause you pain; forgive me if I already have. I only wondered things like if you had siblings, or what your parents were like. I know so little about you," she said, her eyes questioning in a face with no expression.

He sighed. "I ask your pardon, Adonnenniel. You continue to open yourself to me, and out of long habit, I fail to do the same for you. Never fear to ask whatever you wish. I have nothing to keep private or secret from you. You have had your memories stolen from you; your curiosity is natural." Done eating himself, he reached for her hand, so that he might show her more easily as he spoke.

"My father Oropher wed my mother Lothamîr, hundreds of years before they gave thought to children. My father was a strong ellon, skilled in the arts of war and high in the confidences of our king, Thingol. Both of my parents had hair the color of my own, and the same eyes. My father was of slightly taller stature than I am. I loved both of them. My father taught me everything he knew, and my mother was gentle and kind. There were no siblings." 

As he showed her his memories, she inhaled, a muted reaction to the vision in her mind. "They were beautiful... And how kind your mother's eyes were......" she trailed off. "Did your mother.....?" Nenni felt unsure to ask the question, knowing how painful the loss of his father to war must have been.

"She could not bear her grief at his passing, and sailed west long ago to reunite with him." 

 _I don't blame her in the least_ , Nenni thought to herself.  

"You would do the same?" Thranduil asked, raising his eyebrow. 

 She considered his question, as best as her muted state of mind would allow.  "I would not wish, per se, to live in Valinor. It is unknown to me and has no particular appeal. But were something to happen to you, unless I am much mistaken regarding my emotional makeup, I would traverse the seas to be with you even if I did it clinging to a log. I...do not believe I can survive being parted from you. I do not have your strength, in this manner."

Looking aside, she decided that this topic had become unsuitable. "So at a certain age you became a Prince?"

He smiled. "Yes, I did. Legolas was barely coming of age. My father established his rule at Amon Lanc, which has long been turned to ruin and evil purpose.  You...had already been lost to me."

She looked at him, quizzically. "Am...am I like myself, at all? I am not certain how to ask this." A large swallow of wine followed this question. 

He looked at her with a smile, having known that sooner or later he would hear this question. "Yes, you are. You have already seen that your remarkable gray eyes have not changed. Nor has your fae. Your experiences changed you. The first Adonnenniel never sailed on a ship, or had a farm, or sang as you do. She did not have your struggles. But your kindness to others, your love of growing things, and your unwavering devotion to me are things that have remained undiminished." As firmly as he had blanketed her mind against feelings of any kind, something still threatened to break through on her hearing these words. She did not wish to unravel his protections on her, and looked away, nodding. Her hand shifted so that she held his, and her grip tightened, for a moment. Whereupon she reached for more wine. Standing up, he gently arrested her hand. 

"Not too much, meleth, or I promise you will regret it later. Are you still able to feel your emotions?" 

"No, but I might, if the subject does not change. I do thank you for what you shared with me. Another time, when I am feel better, I want to hear so much more. I am searching for something to talk about or occupy my mind that cannot affect me. Regrettably that was not it. Would you please take me to sit near the balcony, so I can look toward outside?"

He helped her walk over there, and made sure she was seated comfortably. He saw her pull her legs up beneath her,  sitting in an oddly splayed position. He went to refill his goblet, returning silently. He heard a kind of music, and saw that she had closed her eyes, and was remembering playing some kind of instrument.  Fascinated, he watched as her fingers tapped out the motions that corresponded to the sounds in her head. It was lovely, with complex melodies. But abruptly she stopped, as her sense of the loss of this kind of music picked at the edges of her mind. _No_ , he heard her tell herself. 

Working on a hunch, he offered, "Adonnenniel, would you play chess with me?" 

"Yes." They moved over to the chairs near the fireplace. 

"I see a problem," she said. "I am trying to play a strategic game against someone who can read my mind." 

He laughed. "If you can keep your thoughts subdued, I can make myself not look in. And if I err, I will be truthful about it and you can take back a piece you've lost." 

"Fair enough." Maybe her concentration improved without the constant emotional narrative that usually ran through her, because this time Nenni beat him. When she placed him in checkmate, she felt nothing. Staring at him, she asked, "Did you let me win, Thranduil? Be honest."

"I did not. But I will not repeat my mistake, if you are willing to play once more", he smirked at her. 

It was only fair, and she granted him the rematch. In spite of her best effort, this time she lost.   _The universe is in order,_ she thought. 

"Thank you for indulging me, but I think that is enough for now, " he said. "I would like to return to the garden to treat you further; the effects of the medicines seem far better there."

A part of her very much did not want to. Not out of objecting, but she could not shake an incredible sense of.....ennui. With all her emotions removed, she felt suffocatingly bored. And she was never bored, always thinking of things to learn or do. It was unsettling, to have this perspective, but she knew that right now it was better than the alternative. She stood up and reached for his arm to hold onto. He raised her chin to look in her eyes. "It will get better, meleth. Today is difficult, but it will not always be like this." The warmth in his blue eyes held her gaze. Nodding her agreement did not change that she felt as dead inside as a graveyard. Even under the heavy blanket he'd placed over her feelings, Nenni still knew that she loved him, and waited for him to lead on.

The early afternoon sun was yet warm as he undressed them both and laid her down. Of all the things the Elvenking ever imagined he would one day do in this garden, using it as an accelerator for his gift of healing would not have entered his mind. She studied the geometry of his sculpted body, as he harvested and prepared more plants. The female form had always seemed more pleasing, as a rule. The symmetry, softness and curves of women were a matter of artistic beauty. The sight of shapely breasts were a marvel, whether they were her own or another's. She had cherished some luscious moments of carnal enjoyment with other women, on Earth. Few things had ever aroused her more than her handful of opportunities to give attention to another woman's comely breasts, so she entirely understood the appeal the female form had for men. Yet the male form was not without charms, either. Their strength, and power, was alluring also...especially a body such as his. Each offered their own loveliness.

"Such things were done, on Earth?" he asked. His tone of voice was unreadable.

 "Yes", she replied. "The world I lived in allowed for a wide swath of sexual enjoyments and experiences. Though, not all cultures and places shared this. There were many sets of rules, depending on many things." 

 "And you...laid with other women, as I do with you?" 

"Yes, and no. A woman, from the waist up, appeals to me strongly. To touch, kiss, suck on the breasts of another was a sensual experience I cannot ever regret. I find women's bodies attractive and beautiful. But I have never had the desire to pleasure another woman, as you do to me. Below the waist. Though, I also never had a woman to whom I was emotionally drawn in this way. They were out there, but the opportunity never presented itself. I hope I do not offend you, but if I am to be honest, I explored many behaviors that would be considered shocking and unthinkable here.  I left all these matters back on Earth. Here, I can desire no one else but you. Not all of my sexual adventures were good ones; something so complex is rarely without some kind of consequence." 

He stroked her cheek. "It does not shock me so much as, I cannot relate to wanting another. It is not something in the elven nature; we mate for all eternity. I suspect that carnal desires may figure more prominently in the life of the Edain."

She returned his gaze, blankly. "That would be a vast understatement. It is safe to say that the yearning to experience carnal pleasure is the driving motive of almost every human on Earth. The only variable is what a person believes, how they act, what they decide is right for themselves. For some rare individuals, they find that a single partner satisfies them for life. For many, maybe even for most, there is a desire for different experiences or a partner with better sexual skills, but it is often in the absence of love. Women, especially, are bonded to their partners by sexual contact. It can be a dangerous area in which to experiment. I do not regret my experiences in a physical sense, but many of them carried a certain cost."

"Are my skills sufficient?" he asked, genuinely curious. 

"You really do not know?" Nenni asked, stunned at the question. "Your skills are without equal. The most adept lover of my past was a pale shadow by comparison. You cannot ask this, in any seriousness."

Smiling at her mischievously, he initiated the same regimen as earlier, beginning with the athelas cordial. But whether it was their conversation or his own ideas, he began his lovemaking to her before he spread a single handful of the athelas paste on her body. Straddling her shoulders and parting her leg with his hands, he began to pleasure her. _Thranduil, I feel nothing, not even desire. I do not know if I can respond to you, as I am now._  Immediately she felt something lift in her mind, and the familiar longing entered her body. He swiftly brought her nearly to climax with his mouth, then stopped abruptly. The sudden absence of his touches felt like being turned adrift, when just as swiftly he mounted her. His kiss claimed her parted lips, as he thrust into her vigorously. He only needed a few such efforts to feel her body spasm underneath his. Kissing her softly, he waited until she had taken the last of her pleasure before pulling out of her. 

"I would say, that your skills are sufficient", she opined with a husky voice, still emotionally detached from herself. He laughed, his eyes twinkling.

Only now did he begin working in the athelas, again. The concoction of plant and bits of leaf being spread over her was unusual, in that certainly no remedy on Earth was anything like it. There was no overt indication that it was doing anything, and yet a perception of its virtue was there nonetheless. She wondered about how it helped, exactly. Did the plant have power of its own, or did his own healing gifts work with it or through it somehow? 

It seemed best to not interrupt or disturb him, so she filed away her questions for another time. The steady kneading of his hands on every muscle certainly felt wonderful. She wished she could return the favor. Hopefully she'd be able to, soon enough. Mostly she just wished that she could divorce her own mind. Was she was bored, or was she reaching out for something to occupy herself that was within her means? She always thought she would  fare passably well in the face of physical debilitation, but it didn't seem like that at the moment. If she were ever in such circumstances, she imagined that she would turn her focus to learn a language, or a new science or....something. But learning anything, right now, felt unappealing. Then again, there was so much less to do here, and fewer entertainments. Their books here were...different, and she'd not seen too many of them. Did they even have fiction or mythology or textbooks? The materials for painting or drawing didn't seem to exist. And while they must have musical instruments, she had seen none.  In short, she was at a current loss of what to do with herself; many of her former amusements did not seem to be available to her. Frankly, she'd forgotten how hard chess was, and they didn't have playing cards or other types of games. There had to be things to do; she would learn in time. She sighed, trying to find something on which to settle her thoughts.

Her mind drifted back to her time sailing on the blue ocean, of how much she'd loved it. She recalled conquering her fear of falling from the tall masts, and how that had given her strength and confidence. She remembered the feeling of standing out on the foot ropes when underway, high over the blue water, as the ship playfully bucked and skipped over the surf far below. She recalled the exhilaration, how alive she had felt, with the wind in her hair and the sun on her cheeks. And the deck guns, the small cannons. She'd not helped her hearing, being around all those explosions. There was the time they'd actually loaded a real cannonball into the thing, and shot it out over the waves to see it rocket off into the distance amidst cheers from the crew. These highjinks were tangential to the many strategy sessions of the mock naval battles, as they worked together as one to pirouette their vessel around, taking the tactical advantage for their deck guns and swivels.  There were hundreds of fond memories, and her recollections gave her a way to pass the time.

Her reverie was interrupted by Thranduil, who asked, "you have studied warfare?" 

He'd startled her, a little. "I don't know how, but I keep forgetting that you listen as surely as if I were speaking aloud," she intoned. "Warfare. Ah, yes and no. I did not serve in our military nor receive training as a soldier. But warfare as a subject...well, yes. Much of the history of Earth was consumed by warfare, from times when the weaponry was primitive as it is here, to the advanced armaments of the century in which I lived. Each advance in military technology and weaponry necessitated new strategies and tactics on the battlefield. There were brilliant commanders throughout our history, men and even a few women who made spectacular and successful use of the resources at their disposal in order to gain their victories. They showed innovation and ingenuity. I learned much. I know the basic construction of many kinds of weapons, both modern and ancient. Medical and surgical skills associated with war also interest me. You saw in my mind some of the earlier naval weapons of my world. Yet even those were agents of terrible destruction to life and limb. Human history is a sad litany of conflict. All of this always fascinated me, because our civilizations built themselves upon the inventions of warfare. Does that answer your question?" she asked, to confirm she'd responded as he wished. 

"You feel we are primitive?" he asked, with the thinnest hint of ire. 

It was apparent from his tone, that she had not answered well. "I meant no disrespect, Thranduil, please believe me. The word was meant as a descriptor of the level of technology, not as a belittling; it is a historical term on Earth. Swords and bows may be wielded with the utmost mastery, and I have the greatest respect for those who have these focused skills. But against a rifle, a cannon, a flamethrower, a rocket; such weapons are as flowers in the hands of children. The greatest swordsman to ever live would lose his life in a second against any of these....it is not even a contest. Can you imagine a weapon that could end hundreds of thousands of lives in a single second, or weapons systems that guaranteed the annihilation of all life on Earth? That is the level of madness to which they aspired. Please pardon my choice of words. I have seen the tiniest slice of your skill with a sword and..." she trailed off, closing her eyes. She did not wish to board the train of thought that had just arrived. "Please, I need to talk about something else."

"I am sorry, Adonnenniel. I should not have asked you this question today. Forgive me." His lips softly came down to hers. These were not kisses of heated passion,  but rather ones of great tenderness and care. 

Tears welled in her eyes as a great surge of inexplicable sadness broke past his barriers. _There is nothing to forgive._ A crushing sensation banded around her chest. She fought it, trying to inhale but only succeeded in releasing a sob of unhappiness.

Just as suddenly, it was gone, as Thranduil pushed her down into sleep, beyond annoyed with himself. He'd known better than to raise any remotely volatile topics of conversation with her right now, and in a moment of distraction and stupid indignation he'd lost his hold over her emotions. He sighed. Her thoughts could not trouble her now. In order to continue, he needed a clear head. He brought her to their bower, that he might work in a place where his sense of self-reproach could not win out. He held her fervently, concentrating with all his power. Light surrounded him, as petals from the blossoms overhead rained down. He continued to beseech the Valar, for her restoration to full health. The well of power in this place moved through him, into her, wrapping her in his love. Though she was not awake to feel it, he held a kiss to her forehead, for a very long time. 

When all the workings of his healing magic had subsided, he carried her back to the heated pool to wash the athelas from her once again. He laid her on the bed after drying her, and went back to retrieve their clothes. It was late afternoon, and the light was now fading. He debated with himself whether to keep her asleep or let her wake, and decided on the latter. He still wished her to take more miruvor. And drink and eat, as well, before retiring for a full night's sleep. He dressed her, first. Cradling her in his arms as he sat on the bed, he softly kissed her as he roused her slowly. As her mind reconnected with his, he continued his very gentle exploration of her parted lips with his own. Soon his kisses were returned. Reaching up, she gently stroked his face, her hand coming to rest behind his neck. Struggling to shake off the effects of sleep, she  pulled herself up. He adjusted his hold on her to help. Blinking, she told him, "I am very thirsty."

He brought her the miruvor, instructing her to drink it first. This time she noticed far more effect, and her mental fog seemed to dispel quickly. Stretching, she absentmindedly rose and walked over to the sideboard, repeatedly filling and draining a goblet of water until her belly was full of it. She rubbed her eyes with both hands as she walked back to him, stopping suddenly to look at him as the realization came over her. _Her body was entirely well_. Quickly closing the distance between them, her arms wrapped around him. "Thranduil, thank you", she said, her voice choking with gratitude. "Thank you."  Though she had given her utmost not to entertain thoughts of despair, she had nonetheless begun to prepare herself for the possibility that she could not be fully cured. Her relief at having this deep worry removed left her shaking against him.

"Meleth, why did you not tell me you feared this?" he asked. Once again she felt his fingers under her jaw, raising her eyes to meet his. 

Her eyes filled with tears at his gentle rebuke. "I....I do not have your frame of reference. I still do not understand a world where a medical outcome can be known for certain. Nor do I understand how magic and herbs and mental gifts can heal. I did as I have always done, hope for the best and expect the worst. I am sorry," she said, now openly crying.

As he released her jaw and held her, he saw his own error. "Do not cry, Adonnenniel, you did no wrong. It is I who should have understood how little you still know of your new life, and what is possible. I see now that you could not have thought otherwise. You only wished not to complain." He rubbed her back, quieting her. "You have much courage." He felt the sadness run amok in her mind. And an understanding of what he must do struck him like lightning during a storm. "I cannot allow this, any longer," he exclaimed. To her bewilderment, as she felt herself swept up into his arms. He carried her swiftly back to the garden, determined to heal her mind as well. He felt her worry that she had done something wrong, and her incomprehension.  

The bright stars now wheeled overhead in the sky, taking her breath away for the beauty of them. His stern face glowed softly under the starlight, and she asked tentatively, "Thranduil?"

A cry escaped her lips as eyes locked to her own, and his full mental weight pressed down on her, flooding her consciousness with his strength and power. She'd had no inkling of the vast reserves of fortitude and mental discipline on which he drew. Still holding her against him with one hand, he now held the side of her head with the other. He increased the dominance of his mind over hers yet more. His wife did not understand, and he felt her trepidation as her mind backed away from his. Inside of her head, his voice rang with the full force of his authority: _**Yield to me**._ Inhaled sharply, she obeyed him without hesitation. With all of her resistance gone, he pushed forward into her mind  the centuries of his endurance, the iron will with which he had always carried on despite bitterness and loss. While he had suffered, despair had no power to fully undo him, and he was welding his own strength of mind onto hers. The full magical power of the earth under his feet was his to command, and he used it to destroy the well worn paths of sadness and despair in her mind, tearing them them down as he would an enemy in battle. Pressure built inside her skull, but she did not fight against it. The pressure turned to pain, and her breathing came now in ragged gasps as she fought to remain passive. And suddenly, he released her. _Be free, Adonnenniel_ , she heard him say.

Nenni did not fully comprehend, though she could feel that something within her had been profoundly altered. Her body shook against his, as she continued to look into his eyes, though she was not cold. It was odd, that the question which ordinarily would have raced out toward him lay still. She saw only the beauty of the lights overhead mirrored in his pale eyes, and leaned forward to kiss him. He returned her kiss hungrily, pouring his desire for her into her mind. All of her responded to him, without hesitation. As they shared their love once again, the sky above mesmerized her. Time itself seemed to change, and a creeping sense of belonging here in a way not previously felt settled upon her. As he brought her to her peak, she held onto him with a different kind of strength. As her orgasm overtook her and the heat of his seed filled her in surging waves, she cried out his name under the sea of stars.

They lay entwined, as she waited for her beating heart and breathing to slow. As their bodies parted, she was the first to rise. A new sense of self-possession filled her. She began to piece together, this was the feeling a mind that was sound, undamaged. The magnitude of what he'd just done seeped into her awareness. Seeing that he watched her, she knelt down, took both his hands in hers, and spoke clearly, looking up to him:

"Gratitude is heaven itself. Take from my heart, all thankfulness."

Rising again, she kept his hands in her own. He kissed her on her forehead, and led her back inside. 


	6. Starlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited, Version 2.0 [Rhiw 2, Imladris, November 25, Gregorian] Note-the less accurate form of the constellation Orion originally given in Quenya as Menelmacar has been changed to the more appropriate Sindarin word, Menelvagor.

Thranduil rang for an evening meal to be brought in about an hour, before joining Nenni once again in the pool. He found her once again oddly spinning in slow rotations beneath the warm water, as she seemed to love to do. But he waited for her, grabbing her unexpectedly when she surfaced for air as she shrieked with laughter. She wriggled free of him in the slippery water, and had almost escaped when he neatly caught her ankle, whisking her back. Smiling wickedly, she heaved a large amount of water directly at his face, once again breaking free as he spluttered in surprise. Catching the look on his face, she dove immediately for the opposite bottom end of the pool, bracing herself  to propel past him when he came for her. Twisting as she ascended and resubmerged, she made it past him but did not account for his quickness. He had her, once again, as her laughter pealed through the room. Trapping her in his arms, his stern gaze bore down on her. _And now what will you do?_ she heard. 

Ending her resistance, she giggled at him. "Not a thing, my King," came the cheeky answer. "Your prisoner is at your mercy."  

 _I shall make you wait upon my judgement_ , she heard, as eyes full of mischief looked into hers. He kissed her lightly. _Are you as hungry as am I?_ he smiled. Releasing her, he rose out of the water. She made one last dive to the bottom, returning a moment later. 

Having dressed, they once again occupied themselves in combing each other's hair. She did not recall others ever having done this, though she was sure at least her mother must have. It  pleased her, especially the feel of his hand stroking over the top of her head. "Do you know how to braid hair, Thranduil?" she asked.

"Yes," his sonorous voice replied. "Is that what you wish?" 

She smiled. "Not now, but perhaps another time, surprise me? I have never seen you braid your own hair. But then, why would you?"

"What do you mean, meleth?" he frowned.

"I meant, that you are uncommonly agreeable to look upon, and braids could not possibly add anything to your appearance."

"I am glad you think so. Personally, I always felt they clashed with the crown."

Her hands clapped to her mouth, as she laughed uncontrollably at his perfect delivery of this unexpected humor. "How you surprise me, Thranduil." Her eyes beckoned up at him, and he obliged her with a kiss as he combed through the last strand of her hair.

Galion arrived with their meal at that moment, and they both walked to the table as he swiftly laid out the table. He bowed deeply as they approached. Looking up, he asked, "You are well, my Lady?" 

She smiled beautifully at the steward, then turned her loving gaze to her husband, whose hand she held. "My Lord the King has cared for me well, Galion. I am fully healed. Thank you so much, for your concern."  Smiling, Galion bowed once again and withdrew.

As they ate, she found herself exploring her own mind. Fascinated by the sense of resilience where there used to be frailty, something occurred to her. She set her utensil down, to look at him. "Thranduil," she asked softly, "was there a cost to you, for the healing of me?" 

His even gaze met her own. "No, Adonnenniel, there was not. I have ever been blessed with great reserves of strength. My one regret is that it took so long to perceive how to end your suffering. Our understandings and experiences have each built upon the other, revealing much in a short span of time." 

She nodded and resumed eating, accepting this. "I saw. And I could not have imagined. Though I am not fully certain, I believe you will find there were more effects than what you originally intended. We will see. I find," she said, "that I am quite the opposite of tired. I feel a desire to walk under the forest trees, in the starlight. Might we, after our meal? Not far away, but near the Palace."

He weighed this. He did so often, on his own. While he no longer fully trusted anything outside of his gates, he knew that the odds of them meeting danger within sight of the walls was next to nonexistent. And he would be right at her side. "Yes, we may. I would enjoy this as well", he said, offering to pour her more wine. She accepted just a tiny splash more, still respectful of its potency. Sooner or later, she smiled, she would have a day of reckoning with this vintage. It was too delicious, and she would eventually over-imbibe.

After they were finished, she nibbled on a few grapes, then stood up to go find garments better suited to the real night air. The garden was not a reliable barometer of conditions in the outer world. A brief moment spent on the balcony informed her, there was a surprising amount of chill.  She chose her finer work clothes that he'd given her, as these were warmer, and found a heavy cloak with a hood. And her circlet as well; she felt unsure of whether their paths would cross those of others in the Palace.  After a short time he had attired himself, wearing all black save for a cloak of midnight blue made of heavy velvet, and his diadem. She saw that he wore his sword, and smiled. Taking his proffered arm, they walked out together. He took her through the front gates of his Halls, and out onto the forest paths. There were clearings where more sky could be seen, close by. The sight of the lights overhead through the trees filled her heart, though she yet felt the constant bother of the underlying illness of the woods. She sighed, knowing what must come before these wrongs could be fully healed...but there was yet time before those things came to pass. The destruction to come bothered her intensely, yet could not be averted. But there was little point dwelling on these matters; better to choose instead instead to appreciate what beauty remained before her. As he led her to a larger clearing, her eyes widened in wonder. She craned her neck to look up, before a better idea for stargazing dawned on her. She took both his wrists in her own, asking him silently to not let her fall. Feeling his grip close around her, she leaned back with her feet near to his, so that she was suspended in a way that let her look up easily. Playfully, she moved in a slow circle this way, turning him with her. "Tell me something about them, please?" she asked him. "I do not see anything I recognize." 

He pulled her back to him, and lifted her into his arms, offering her a better way to look up as he spoke. "I will show you my favorite, but I must walk a little further to have a view of it. We call it Menelvagor, the Swordsman of the Sky." He entered another clearing that allowed a view of the southern sky, and into her view loomed the constellation Orion. 

She gasped. "I do recognize. Is this possible?" 

Seeing it in her mind, he said "To us it represents Turin Turambar, and was among the stars created by Varda. You know this?" he asked.

Nenni replied, "On Earth it is Orion, the Hunter. He battles Taurus the bull, pursues the sisters of the Pleiades, and is followed through the sky by his faithful dogs. But greater yet is what the telescopes showed us there. Earth has made inventions that can magnify the stars, allowing us to see what our eyes cannot. Orion is the birthplace of stars." She showed him in her mind the images of the Orion nebula, and the formations that came to be called the Pillars of Creation. "It is wondrous to find this here; it was my favorite too," she whispered, reaching up to touch his face. She found herself a little lost, trying to puzzle out how she was seeing these things. "He will set in a few hours, will he not?" she asked. 

"What do you mean, 'set'?" he asked. 

She frowned. "Like the sun and the moon, the stars wheel overhead, rising and setting...do they not?"

 "The stars remain still in their places," he answered, his brows knitting together as she showed him how the Earth sky rotated around the Polestar. 

"This is astounding," she said. "I do not understand, nor will I ever, in all likelihood. I was no astronomer. Still, even to see one familiar sight...it is a kind of comfort. And as on Earth, their loveliness fills my heart." He returned her to her feet, that they might walk together. They walked along in silence, as she appreciated the scenery and the cool air, holding on to his arm or hand.

"Adonnenniel, what did you mean earlier, when you said that there were more effects on you than I originally intended?" 

She came to a stop, as they were passing through another clearing. "As I said, I am not fully certain, but there is a simple way to find out. Would you hand me your sword, Thranduil?"

He drew his blade; or rather, one of them, holding it out to her. She took it from him carefully with what now seemed like practiced ease, and stepped back from him. Slowly at first, she began to execute simple drills, allowing her arm to adjust to the unfamiliar weight; she was not of his stature. To his openmouthed astonishment, her feet and hands began to move much faster, as she spun her way through far more complex motions, the steel singing as it cut through the air. She stopped, and returned to him, carefully proffering the hilt. 

Clearing her throat, she said, "I believe that would be among...the effects. You have imparted to me certain of your skill sets. My body and mind still require training and instruction; my muscles are not accustomed to these movements. But my mind somehow already knows much of what do; this could only have come from you. Before you ask, I do not know exactly what else there might be. I only have an awareness that compared to before, my mind is very resilient. I feel...less human and more elven, for the first time since coming here. It feels like I am myself, but with elements of you fused onto me. There is far more strength, of some kind. I hope that you are not displeased. I did not wish for more than you intended to give me."

"Adonnenniel. I am the opposite of displeased. I promised you that I would teach you this skill; this will now be greatly facilitated. I want you to be able to protect yourself." He cupped her face in his hands. "I pledged to give you all that I am, meleth. I would not deny you any part of myself that would aid you in any manner. I merely could not have known that this would be possible. You and I have gone very far down the path of sharing each other's minds. There were certain to be unexpected discoveries. Probably in all of Arda, only Galadriel and Celeborn would be like us. And I question if even they have gone so far, because of there being no need."

"Hm. I could see that. Not much about....us...has been usual. But the imp in me, as you would call it, is amused. I like the idea of what we can do, of which no one else knows." She chuckled. "It is quite the unfair advantage, don't you think?"

"That reminds me," he said. "You asked me earlier if you were like your old self at all. I'd forgotten to mention that though you were indeed always kind, that you were often filled with all sorts of mischief, especially before Legolas was born. I rather missed it, and it gladdens my heart to see it again."

She smiled. "You never should have mentioned that. Such words are like throwing oil on a flame. You will lead me astray."

He laughed. "You may try. But I have a few tricks of my own."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Nothing good will come of this conversation, husband. I promise." With that, she took his arm, waiting for him to lead on through the starlit trees. It was late, when they arrived back at the great gates and made their way to their chambers. Nenni at last felt like she might be able to settle down after this transformative day, her mind still full of the beauty of the stars.

Undressing for sleep, she asked him, "what duties are there for tomorrow, Thranduil?" 

"There are none. I deem it important to allow one more day, to ensure there are no further ill effects from your experience." Before she could protest, he held up his hand. "One day ago this time, you could not walk unaided. Prudence calls for being certain of your health before we resume work. If you are as well as I suspect you are, we will continue with your education with the sword." She smiled, at hearing that. He met her eyes and said, "You will not thank me, meleth. It can be very demanding work."

Her head dipped in acknowledgment of his words. "I told you that you would find me to be an earnest student. Hard work or no, you will have my best efforts. I do not wish to disappoint you."

She pulled back the covers and climbed into bed, waiting for him. Looking down at her hands, she noticed her wedding rings and recalled the burns to her fingers. Working both rings off, she looked in fascination at her index finger and thumb. The perfect outlines of the delicate scrolling of her rings were emblazoned on her skin, in dark reddish brown scar lines. Each line was raised, ever so slightly. It looked very much like the patterns stained by henna, on a Earth. She thought it looked very beautiful, and it seemed so fitting. Her bond to him was now written into her skin, unchangeably. "Thranduil, look at what happened!" He took her hand, and studied it in the candlelight. Closing his eyes, he kissed her fingers. "Put these back on for me, please?" she asked, handing him the rings. Flushing with pleasure, she remembered the day he'd first slid these onto her finger and thumb. 

Welcoming him next to her, she leaned in to the warmth of his body. She began to kiss him softly, hungering always for his touch. For a long time, they exchanged very gentle kisses, tenderly exploring each other's mouths. She wove her fingers through his satin hair, enjoying the feel of the soft strands playing out in her hands. Her fingers to slowly massaged his scalp as she kissed him. His strong hands in turn kneaded at her shoulders and neck. Eventually their need for each other grew beyond this, and she pulled him to her, asking him for more. He was only too happy to comply as she spread her legs wide for him, sighing with relief when he entered and filled her at last. She strained against his every motion, consumed with the need to feel as much of him as possible. It was bliss to her, the weight of him on her, her arms around his strong shoulders, his steady pushing inside of her. They floated on crest of this gentle and subdued lovemaking as long as their flesh would allow, before they were pulled into ecstasy. Remaining entwined, they fell asleep in each other's arms, still connected in mind and body.


	7. Incursion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains a scene with consensual light bondage, dom/sub play  
> Edited, version 2.0 [ Rhiw 3, Imladris, November 26, Gregorian]

The rays of sun filling their chamber woke them. Nenni offered to bring him tea, enroute to her time in the steaming water. She twisted her hair up, having had enough of soggy locks for the time being, and soon was communing with her teacup whilst staring blankly at the hot water.  Closing her eyes brought fond remembrances of their nocturnal walk; hopefully it was the first of many. The forest at night she found to be  nearly as appealing as Thranduil, and that was saying a great deal. Sipping the fragrant beverage, she found her mind wandering to the fragmented events of the past few days, and the garden. Like a great machine, it was poised to achieve a purpose. Nenni brought her thoughts to settle on how she was going to manage the extra workload. In the beginning, she'd envisioned that perhaps elves from the storerooms could assist her with the removal of her production. With this clearly no longer being advisable, there would now be so much time spent on simply moving heavy sacks and containers at least into the passageways. There would also be no help possible with the more mundane tasks that did not strictly require her attention, like winnowing. She could send the grain out unthreshed or unwinnowed, true, but she hated the idea of delivering anything other than a quality product. There were technological solutions, like her old fanning mill that she used on Earth. Yet there was no power source here for such things, and the construction of such a device would be far from simple. She was not gifted to think like an engineer, and it would require a stupendous effort to puzzle out the gears and mechanics of the thing from her memory. There was the magic of the garden itself, but she could not see a path to how to use it for this purpose, short of telekinesis. _Short of telekinesis._ Her eyebrow raised. She possessed no such gift; yet, stranger things had been accomplished inside that ring of stone walls. As far as she had known, telepathy was not possible; that had long ago been proven wrong. She marked that as a notion to explore. There had to be more options, but at present, she did not see any way out of simply needing to do a great deal of heavy work. Perhaps there were wheelbarrows or carts here. An animal for such work seemed ridiculous, and it would be unfair to keep a creature lodged there in servitude. This obviously complex problem would require more than one brainstorming session to solve.

A voice behind her intruded into her thoughts. "You would not ask me, for my help?" he said. Catching her exactly in mid-swallow, she inhaled some of her tea. She was soon in the grip of long, rasping coughs  as her body tried to clear the liquid from her respiratory passages. The paroxysms forced tears from her eyes but eventually she recovered herself. Nenni turned to look at him, smirking at her, with her train of thought now in tatters. Had he done that on purpose? She saw the twinkle in his eyes. _Thranduil Oropherion, you just wait_ , she thought rather loudly in his direction. She forced whatever plots she was hatching deep down, beyond his easy reach.  Taking a breath to clear her head, she responded seamlessly to his question. "You are the greatest of the Elvenkings. Such work is not fitting for you, as though you were a...farmer." Her thoughts were tied up in knots now, and she turned red, knowing that he was greatly enjoying this. He crept behind her exposed shoulders, nipping at her neck with his lips and teeth. "So you now decide what is fitting for me; that I may not do such work, while my queen labors under heavy loads, as though she were a...farmer?" 

He was revealing far more to her a side she'd not yet seen; full of  playfulness, teasing,  sarcasm...and domination. She did not know what to make of it, this inviting of her to cross her own boundaries toward him. Her instinct to show him nothing but respectful deference was being deliberately baited beyond what it could endure, yet still she managed to yield to him. For now. Rolling her eyes, she replied,"My Lord. I decide nothing. You only need tell me your wishes, as well you know." She could be a very good sport, but she felt sorry for him. He was within inches of awakening a little monster he might well regret prodding from its slumber.

Leaning over once again, he nipped at her throat, intoning "Oh, but I look _forward_ to it."

And the Little Monster was roused. Reaching over her shoulders quicker than a thought, she locked her arms over his shoulders, at the same time arching her back and springing up to get her legs under her on the stone bench. With all her might, she heaved him forward to tumble over her, splashing him into the water. Swiftly releasing him, she shot out of the water and sprinted to the garden. As he spluttered in the water in disbelief, he heard her quite clearly. _I shall be most glad to hear my Lord's instructions. If ...he can catch me first._

 _Oh, how he had missed this!_ he thought with a flush of pleasure, as he picked up the gauntlet she had thrown down in front of him. They had so often played in this manner, long ago. She had a small head start on him, but he was very fast. What he did not take into account was that she had not spent these last months entirely idle, in a physical sense. She had gone to great lengths, to try to school her body to greater athleticism. Which was all to say, that she ran far faster than he had anticipated. Fast enough that she was able to burst into the garden, lay a false track through the grasses, then break to the right, running over the places with minimal vegetation to the orchard. She flew up into the canopy of her biggest almond tree, to lay her trap for him. He only needed to make the mistake of wandering anywhere near a vining plant, and she would have him. If he followed her path, he would do just that. She carefully kept her mind utterly blank of these things, instead using a singsong children's taunt to egg him on. _You can't catch me, You can't catch me_ , came her mocking voice into his mind, on an endless round.

She saw him burst out the doorway, following her trail, but then stopping just short of where she needed him to be. Did he guess her plan? He was not the greatest warrior in this world for nothing, she reminded herself in the most abstract manner possible. No matter, he was making a different sort of mistake. He was standing still, giving her time to send her vines silently through the grasses toward his feet. In a moment, she had him, as he felt too late the snaking bonds that encircled his legs. He pulled away with all his might, but the vines were too strong. Reaching down to try and tear them away, he only brought his hands within their range, and found himself bound helplessly. Silently she dropped from the tree and took a roundabout path to his location. She did not wish to reveal her strategies to him all at once, as this little game might go on for all eternity. He struggled against his bonds, but in vain. Approaching behind him unseen, she now directed the vines to grow up, creating an arch by which to lift and bind him into a standing position. She added in a secure wrap around his waist, not trusting herself to be certain of the extent of his strength. 

 

"I see that my Lord did not catch me," she said, walking around him now, smiling. She was careful to check the look in his eyes; this was still uncertain ground for her. He did not appear to be angry, but he definitely was not yielding, either. She had quite the flash of inspiration at that moment, as she looked at him, laid out for her. For all his might, he was helpless save for his option to command her. She decided to press her advantage. There was something she'd wanted to do for awhile now, and what better opportunity?

"And therefore, I am afraid you will have to accept the consequences," she said with an even tone, as she dropped to her knees before him. With the softest brush of her fingers, she passed her hands over his genitals, making sure to catch the most sensitive edges of his glans with the slowest of her delicate touches. _Allow me into your mind, Thranduil, and I may show you greater compassion,_ she sent to him. What she really desired was to ensure that his bonds were secure but not hurting him in any way. He obeyed her, and she immediately used the connection to release the pressure of the unpleasantly tight cords. Immediately he pitched all his strength against the vines, thinking that they might have weakened enough. _Tsk tsk, she chided, that will earn you a demerit._ The effort he exerted had left his manhood partially erect, and with a flick of her tongue and lips, she took him into her mouth. She laved her tongue gently all around his tip, sucking lightly, only to release him and blow cool air softly across him. He groaned and began to harden more. She took him in once again, this time fully, sucking hard, then just as quickly releasing him, only to catch him again between her dexetrous fingers. She kept this up for many minutes, teasing and sucking and using her tongue on him until he was swollen and throbbing with need. The clear, slippery liquid of his desire leaked out of him in a steady stream now. She stroked him softly with her hand, letting his lubrication flow down the fingertips of her opposite hand. Very abruptly the vines were used to force his legs apart, while at the same time others were added, to help support the weight of his body. His passion must not  be allowed to recede. She was aching for him, but firmly disregarded this. It was her intention to dominate him, and her own heated desire only helped her concentrate better.  She felt his knees beginning to shake. Standing, she still kept him in her slowly moving fingers. He opened his eyes to meet hers, and they were full of arousal...and still he resisted. 

"I am quite comfortable, Thranduil, and enjoying myself. Do you desire more, or shall I leave you like this?" she asked, playfully. He groaned and glowered at her, refusing to answer. She smirked at him. "I see I have not made myself clear enough." She reached around him, and let her fingers dripping with lubrication find the entrance between his buttocks. With her right hand she continued to tease and torment his manhood, and now with her left she was placing gentle, slick touches around his opening. His eyes flew open wide, as a new sensation of desire came over him. She returned to kneeling in front of him, but now she reached up between his legs to resume her work behind him, as she took his member into her mouth again. For many minutes she slowly pressed and circled, relaxing his opening as he became accustomed to the sensation. His groans were becoming more frequent and more guttural now, and she saw how flushed his skin was. _This will feel strange to you. Relax and do not resist me,_ she sent to him. The area was slick, and she gently slid her longest finger into him in a smooth motion. He inhaled in surprise. Her talented finger quickly sought out the goal she'd had all along; the peanut shaped swelling inside this part of him. Still with his length in her mouth, she made her first gentle sweep over the second organ of his pleasure. His knees threatened to buckle as he cried out, engulfed by heat he had not known could exist. She stroked him again, slower this time, and saw his body flush to scarlet with his need.

_Now I ask you again, Thranduil, do you desire more, or do I leave you like this? I require an answer._

_Yes_ , came his voice into her mind. 

 _Yes_ what _, Thranduil? You must ask properly._  

 Saying this, she traced another circle inside of him, with tormenting slowness. His resistance broke like a dam; he was unable to endure any further.

 _Yes please, meleth. Please..._    His proud spirit had conceded at last. Yet, she did not use it as a victory. She knew all too well the vulnerability of being in his power, and that he may never before in all his life have been subordinate to another. Immediately, she bent all her efforts on giving him his release. With her mouth, she moved him deeply in and out, much as he would have if he were inside her own folds. Her finger inside of him now gently massaged without ceasing, and her right hand moved behind his soft and ample sack to gently rub at the utmost base of his manhood. He again let her inside of his mind, which allowed her to follow his experience and do everything in her power to increase his ecstasy. As the gland she massaged began to pump semen under her ministrations, it foreshadowed the feeling of his orgasm, though his had not yet begun. His breathing was now ragged and peppered with moans; he was right at the very edge. With two gentle squeezes of her teeth over his glans and one last flick of her tongue, he exploded. Pulling him fully into her mouth, she felt his hot seed spill down her throat as his climax pulsed. She began to lower him to the ground, initiating the unraveling of all of his bonds. She unobtrusively slid her finger from him, holding his hips so that she could keep her mouth gently on him until the last waves of his pleasure were spent. Gently moving off of him, she took his upper body into her lap as she ordered the last of the vines away. She held him tenderly, burning with her own desire, yet feeling no small confusion about the sum of what had just occurred. With vague trepidation, she reflected on the revenge he would exact for her having done this. It was all in good fun. She hoped. 

In an instant he spun up out of her arms and turned, landing so as to pin her in his iron grip. Which she had to admit, was quite a good trick. She did not even try to resist him, wondering what torments she might now expect. As he entered her, he laughed. "I would never be that obvious, meleth. At the very least you deserve relief, after your efforts." True to his word, he pleasured her, still very much caught in the feelings of what she'd done with him. He claimed her vigorously, and it was not long before she felt his heated semen surge into her, his final thrusts causing her spine to arch, lifting him. When she had subsided, her head still reeling, she sat up. 

All she could say was, "...and all this before breakfast..." They both rose, and walked back to their chambers, hand in hand. Nenni did not know what to do next, but dressing seemed like a sound option. Though, she stopped off at the pool to quickly clean herself. Dressing, she reached up and felt the tangled mess of her hair with some dismay. Everything from almond leaves to water had done its work. She tried to begin by finger combing, when she felt him steer her into a nearby chair. "Allow me, please." Looking up at him, she tried to gauge his mood and could read nothing from him. She sighed in resignation.

"You do not know what to make of this side of me, and you are uncertain how to proceed, meleth?" Looking up at him, she saw that his expression was soft.

"I like this...play...very much," she said. "I had not expected to see this within you. Yet it distills down to, you are my ruler. I fear to push play too far, that I will transgress and anger you. This kind of game requires that the rules between us change. You tease me, in order to see if I will try to gain mastery over you. As you can see, I will rise to the bait. Yet your will must prevail. My path is unclear."

"I can make it easier. Within these chambers, and the garden, you are released from all such concerns. All is fair.  Outside of here, I will keep my authority. And take responsibility for not being unfair to you in such places, with too much teasing or provoking.  Does that help?" 

Nenni laughed. "Yes, and no. Do you think I am blind to the fact that you will always win, in one manner or another? There is a saying on Earth: One may win the battle, yet lose the war." 

He laughed. "Fair enough, meleth." His voice softened. "Adonnenniel, this is how....how we used to be, together. I could not behave this way toward you, until your mind was healed. The few times I tried, even lightly, it threatened to shatter you. Your love for me and your desire to bend to me are so pure, so steadfast. I had to protect you, to keep your own damaged thoughts from turning on you. I must have seemed far more reserved and somber, and it must appear to be a very sudden change."

She smiled. "It does. And, you are correct. Were correct. I could not have borne up under this, just one day ago. I used to wonder, what I could achieve with a mind that was fully well. As you did with the injuries to your eye and face, I resigned myself to the permanence of my condition. All the gold and jewels in the world cannot replace the value of the wholeness of mind and body.  But, I do have an idea, a suggestion. The kind of play in which we engage will test our vulnerability toward each other, and our trust. Who is dominant and who must submit leads to all sorts of erotic feelings; that is part of the excitement and fun of it. But there is always a risk that one of us can go too far, and unwittingly cause harm. Especially from me to you; I was very cautious in what I did with you today, as I cannot read your mind without your aid. There should be a phrase that we keep between us. If one of us ever speaks it to the other, it means that whatever is happening must stop immediately, that something has occurred such that it is no longer a game. I must have a way to know beyond a shadow of a doubt, if I must obey you without question. And perhaps the other way around, though I cannot imagine why. Do you agree?" 

"There is wisdom in this," he replied. "What words should we use?" 

She thought a moment. "Laurelin and Telperion.  Those words fill me with a reverence that would stop me in my tracks no matter what I was doing."

"It is well, meleth. And now, your hair no longer resembles a nest for birds. Shall we eat?"

They sat at the table to find what Galion had left them earlier. To her astonishment, the kitchen had sent up their rendition of her granola recipe. "Oh!" she exclaimed with excitement. "Well, here goes." Nenni showed him how to place some in a bowl, with milk, offering a warning that small amounts of it tended to be surprisingly filling.  She put the first spoonful in her mouth, and was enraptured. Clapping her hand over her mouth as she chewed it, her eyes widened. Every texture and delight that usually belonged to this food had somehow been heightened. There were flavors like rose and even the faintest hint of lavender. The oats seemed lighter, crisper, and the sweetness was a far more complex sensation than ever before. A tear of unbelief and delight streaked down her cheek. "How? How did they do this? Do you use magic on the food, as well?" she turned to him questioningly. He puzzled out her question by seeing her memories.

"I do not know, meleth. But Elves do tend to improve and beautify anything they touch. It is uncommonly delicious, and pleasant to eat." 

She finished her bowl in rapture. "Trade that in Dale. You will never want for wine, for all eternity." Pushing her bowl away, she poured more tea for herself. She noticed that he was drinking something else. "Is that....wine, Thranduil?" The mere thought of wine at this hour made her vaguely queasy. He laughed. 

"It is a very different vintage that I have long taken in the morning. Do you wish to try it?" he asked, offering her the goblet. She sniffed the fragrant liquid, finding that she could not identify what the taste might be. She let a few drops pass her lips, and her eyes widened. It had similarities to mead, but with none of the cloying sweetness. Hazarding an actual swallow, she stared back at the goblet, blinking. It was like cool water and berries and fruits and nectar with maybe the faintest hint of bergamot. And she could feel the alcohol, as it warmed down her throat. Handing it back to him, she continued to stare at it. 

"You do not care for it?" he asked. 

"I care for it too much. Trust me, you do not want me drinking that, in the morning. Unless the agenda for the day is an ongoing parade of sexual dalliances, in which case pour me extra." He thought that very funny, and almost snorted his wine.

"No, I rather had other plans for us today. In fact, we should be leaving soon. And before you ask, your present attire is suitable."

She finished her tea, still reflecting somewhat wistfully on the wine. P _erhaps on what passes for Sunday mornings around here_ , she thought. 

Waiting for him in the drawing room, she saw him crane his body around the doorway, looking for her. "We are not leaving through this door, Adonnenniel. Come," he offered her his hand. She noted that he wore very simple, close fitting garb, and was armed. His diadem was his only adornment.  He walked back through their chambers, past the pool and his wardrobe, past the toilet door, to the terminus of a dead-end passage. Not that she'd ever paid that much attention, beyond an early look around not long after her arrival here. There was a beautiful carving in the stone, of intertwined trees of the forest; yet, much of the walls were decorated as such throughout the palace. He placed his hand over the image of the cedar tree, and pushed against the wall. The stone noiselessly swung outward on invisible hinges.

"If I find you've hidden a library back here, I might have to be annoyed with you, Thranduil," she relayed with humor in her voice.

"You must forgive me, Adonnenniel. I enjoy surprising you, perhaps too much." Wide stone steps led downward, and she noticed that he did not bother to close the door. "It is your prerogative, husband. Besides, I like to think I too have a few surprises left for you as well." He stopped suddenly, turning to face her. Because of the steps, his brilliant blue eyes were at the same level with hers. "Where did you learn...what you did to me earlier? I could never have imagined that such an experience was possible." 

 She frowned. "While I suppose it is not exactly common knowledge among Edain women, it is no secret to those who made some effort to learn how to pleasure a man. The massaging inside of you takes advantage of how your body is made, just as with what you do to me. I am glad to give you delight in that manner, whenever you wish it. And, I have a question of my own. How did you...you had barely finished your own climax and yet you were on me in seconds. How is that possible?"  

He looked confused. "I am afraid I do not understand the question, meleth, I had always done as such if I wished." 

"Well, Edain men must...wait, for a certain amount of time, depending on the vigor of the man. But at the very least it is always some minutes, and more often than not, hours or even an entire day." 

Now, he understood what she was asking, and answered: "Now I see. Meleth, an ellon has no such limitation." He rather enjoyed the look on her face, as she digested this tidbit. They emerged into what appeared to be an armory. She stared openmouthed at the sheer volume of objects that confronted her vision. An elleth who had reddish hair turned the corner, bowing to the King. Nenni looked at her in fascination, as she was the only other she had yet seen with anything like her own hair coloring. Though, this elleth had a different shade of red. She was lovely and had a commanding presence. An untamable air hovered around her. Nenni liked her immediately, though she had not yet spoken a word.

"Adonnenniel, this is Tauriel, one of my Commanders and one of the few ellith skilled in combat. I have asked her here to fit you properly with a breastplate and bracers, and a selection of weapons suited to your stature. She will know best where such items can be found. 

"My Lord," said Tauriel, appraising Nenni's body, "Might I suggest a corset and gorget rather than a breastplate? My Lady will have freer  movement with such."

Thranduil inclined his head to her. "Always listen to anything Tauriel suggests, Adonnenniel. She has a discerning eye and is fearless when it comes to speaking the truth. I will leave you two for a short time, while I attend to other matters." As Thranduil spun on his heel to exit, the corners of Tauriel's mouth curled up slightly into a muted smile. Thranduil's words confirmed what Nenni had guessed at, from the moment of her introduction. This, then, was the elleth to whom both of them arguably owed their present happiness. Better than most, Nenni understood the courage it would have taken to defy him, much less when he was incensed and fully armed. Here was one with whom she hoped she could become friends.

Tauriel gestured, "My Lady, this way." 

"Tauriel, please wait," Nenni asked.  

"My Lady?" she replied, her green eyes levelly meeting Nenni's gray ones. 

"Though I am not usually so forward, I feel there is something that must be said. I know of the stand you took against the King. It is to that moment in time that I owe my life here, and all of the blessings that have befallen the King and I. For that alone, my debt to you can never be erased. But beyond that, I sense some similarity to my own heart in you. I hope to one day earn the right to call you my friend. In the meantime, I will humbly do my best to learn anything in which you instruct me, but only if you stop calling me 'my Lady.'  There is no need, when we are alone together. Please call me Adonnenniel, or Nenni if you prefer it." Nenni inclined her head deeply to the Commander, in a gesture of respect.

Any small preconceived notions Tauriel had formed regarding the queen immediately vanished into the ether. She was too well trained in protocol to reveal any overt emotion, but found herself astonished at the elleth in front of her, whose kind gray eyes fixed so warmly on her own. Tauriel could easily perceive that Nenni had a resolute will that matched her own, as well as a hunger to learn. The hunger to learn, Tauriel knew well. The queen was unlike most other elleth in the realm, of that much Tauriel was certain....except perhaps, herself. Smiling, she replied, "Then Adonnenniel, let us find you your armor. Please follow me."  Nenni smiled broadly. It was a beginning.

It did not take too long to begin accumulating a pile of materials. Armor, a bow and quiver of arrows suited to her arm length, knives, a practice longsword. While Nenni had appreciated each and every material gift Thranduil had bestowed upon her, her eyes were shining with happiness as this hoard piled up. She had ever been drawn to activities that were usually the provenance of males, and this was no exception. What she would ever do with this training, she was uncertain. It seemed fairly certain that she would never be allowed in a battle. It was beyond being allowed or not allowed. Her foremost obligation in this world was to remain alive, for her husband. Likely it would be her, fearing for his life, and not the other way around. No personal desire of her own would ever cause her to deliberately endanger his happiness. And yet the coming darkness might demand the abilities of every able fighter. It would not be for her to decide; but it was for her to prepare, as all the rest of them did.

"I am grateful for your assistance, Tauriel. I have ever had to sort through the castoffs of males, hoping to find something worn by the smallest of them that might prove to be of use. I know the struggle well. I would never find these on my own."

Tauriel straightened. "You have fought before?" she asked. 

"No, not fighting. But I have ever found myself in occupations usually claimed by men. I am guessing that you know I came from a place outside of here, and that I was once Edain. I sailed ships on the sea, and had a farm of my own. Can you imagine someone my size, trying to find a pair of seaman's boots that fit?  Or a hat that fit, and would not fly overboard in the slightest breeze? It was a nightmare." 

At this, Tauriel genuinely laughed. "The struggle is real," she admitted. They both chuckled at this shared experience. It would be the first of many.

Finally their collection was complete, and they laid everything out on a table for that use. Tauriel confirmed one last time that the chosen arrow length was correct. Tauriel asked her, "Are you right or left handed?" as she took a second measure of the bow she had selected for her.

"Well, I am right-handed, but I am left-eye dominant. What archery training I had, was worked on right-handed, because I had not worked out the vision problem. I leave it to you, to direct me as to how it should go from here." Tauriel arched her eyebrow, favorably impressed. Whatever the queen did or did not actually know, she had taken the time somewhere along the line to learn at least this much. That meant, her interest was real.

Tauriel considered, but not for long. "You must re-learn, then, drawing with your left hand. It will take extra effort, but otherwise your sighting will be affected. Should you become very proficient on the left side, we can consider training right handed as well. But for now, we will stay with one choice."  

"As you say," Nenni agreed.

"Can you draw the bow for me?" Tauriel asked. Nenni did her best to relax, and let what she'd learned work along with her gifts from Thranduil. She placed her feet in line with an imaginary target, drew in a smooth motion, trying to keep her stubborn forearm bones in their proper alignment on the bow hand, and brought the string to her face in her usual three point alignment. She had always chosen nose, lips, and her fingers anchored under a certain place on her jaw for this. She hoped her drawing elbow was at the correct height; she had never learned a reference for this. Nenni could feel the burn in her shoulder blades from the weight of the draw. This was a much heavier bow than the very light ones to which she was accustomed. Yet she did not complain, but held her pose. She felt Tauriel nudge her left elbow a little higher, and did her best to hold it thus. "You may release your draw," Tauriel said. Gratefully, Nenni brought the string back to its original position. 

"Tauriel, may I ask you questions?" 

"Of course, please do" the Commander said.  "Two things. One, I am weak and need to increase my draw strength. How best do I do this? And two. Regarding the elevation of my left elbow. Is there a physical reference point you can teach me for knowing when I am in a correct posture? I have long struggled with the ideal height." 

Tauriel was more pleased with the questions than with the draw of the bow, which had exceeded her expectations.  She showed Nenni three different exercises for improving the strength of the muscles behind her shoulders, recommending that they be done on both sides of the body and not just the left. "Regarding your second question, I would prefer you not to worry about this for now. It tends to be an issue that solves itself along the way, once basic skills are solidified," she opined. "And now, we must get you into this corset. The King will likely return soon."

"There are more buckles on this than a horse's bridle," Nenni laughed. "How tight should it be?" 

"It must be tight enough to stay firmly in place on your waist and ribs, but not so tight that it completely eliminates freedom of movement. As a tip, I have always found that taking the lower straps in a notch if I feel myself becoming fatigued helps; the corset then provides more support to the muscles of the lower back."  Tauriel at last placed the gorget on her. "That should keep you safe enough from nicks." 

Nenni laughed. "I suppose that depends on the mood of the instructor. But if he makes a pincushion of me, it falls to him to heal it all later." 

Tauriel laughed at this. "There is no one to match his skill, you will be in good hands." 

"I know," Nenni said softly, "I do not deserve such a teacher. And Tauriel, what of these knives?" 

Tauriel showed her how to hold them, in each hand. "The hardest part, and you can practice this on your own, is to become familiar with the feel of them in your hands; their weight and balance." She demonstrated how to spin them in her hands. "Do what you can to practice this, and we will see what progress you can make. And do not be discouraged. I will not willingly confess how long it took me to master that initial skill," she said smiling. "If you repeat that to anyone, I shall deny it," Tauriel whispered. 

"Repeat what?" asked Nenni, blankly. Both ellith laughed heartily. 

Thranduil had been around the corner for some time, listening to them. It pleased him to no end, that they were getting on so well. Tauriel could be cool and reserved to those she did not know. _Though,_ he thought, _I pity myself, once these two flaming haired ellith join forces_. Though he would not admit it in plain words, he knew how much he owed to Tauriel, wild daughter of the forest that she was. He retraced his steps enough to allow his boots to make some warning of his return to them. Both of them bowed their heads at his arrival. "Thank you, Tauriel, for your assistance. Would your duties permit you to work with the queen at the bow and knives, when time allows?" 

"Of course, my Lord, I would be honored." 

"You may be dismissed, Tauriel," the King said. Bowing once again, Tauriel retreated from them. Smiling inside herself, Nenni watched her retreat. She then turned to the King to await...what came next.

He offered her his arm, which she gladly accepted. "What of this small hoard of armaments do I bring with me now?" she asked. 

He thought for a moment. "All of them, actually. It will do no good for some industrious and bored guard to see them here, and restock all of them into the armory. He took the sword and bow for her, leaving her to manage the knives and quiver. He walked along more passageways, until he opened the door to an unusual chamber, at least to her eyes. There was only a small table against one wall, where he indicated to her to place the other weapons.  A lone mannequin type target stood in an far corner; the room was otherwise bare. The ceilings were vaulted, as were many places in the caverns. The floor was irregular; only in some areas was the surface carved smooth. 

He closed the door, and faced her. "This is my private practice chamber, where you will work. I see no need to add to the task of your learning by having you be a spectacle of curiosity for all. Fear not, you will get that anyway for archery, as it is unavoidable. Yet, Tauriel commands a certain terror throughout the realm. So while I cannot guarantee you complete privacy, I can hazard that you will not be annoyed. Sword and knife work, though, can be conducted here, and I will inform Tauriel of such.  What I am planning to do in here is completely unorthodox. But, so is everything about your circumstances. Rather than start you off at day one, I am going to evaluate your abilities and open my mind to you to push you further. I will help you with all three weapons, as it is unwise to forego proficiency with any of them. But I have claimed the sword as my preferred choice, whereas Tauriel is nearly evenly skilled with bow and knives. This is a hunch, but as I am used to fighting with this particular weapon, which differs from all others in the armory, we will start with these. You need not worry about your stature, with this sword. The one chosen for you is no shorter." He held out one of his swords to her.  She took it by the grip, pointing the tip away from him, and waited. 

"Prepare your body," he instructed. "Perform the same drills as you did in the forest last night." He stepped back and allowed her to move. He did not interrupt as she deviated somewhat, honestly not recalling all of what she'd done the time before. This time, he noted, she moved back and forth between one and two handed strokes. Her footwork and balance were impeccable, but he saw that she was moving instinctively, randomly. She did not have an intellectual connection to her motions. He moved in toward her, parrying one of her strokes, to see what would come next. The point of his own sword was somewhat elevated, and with two hands on the grip to guide her own blade, she swiftly rotated beneath his defense to try to cut at his hand. But she did not merely do that alone; she also dropped her body down in a spin to further change the angle of her blade while moving herself out of his reach. She managed the barest nick to the bottom of his wrist, while quickly returning herself to a defensive stance, now actively seeking an opening in which to strike. Her focus was complete; she did not have an awareness that she'd succeeded at all. He felt her considering him as an opponent, knowing that her only advantage lay in speed and lightning fast attempts to find openings in his defenses; she knew that she could not come close to any exchange in which he could use his superior height and strength against her. He tried to drive her on the defensive, seeking to trap her between his blade and one of the walls of the room. Always she circled around him to maintain a retreat, keeping a constant awareness of the changing elevations under her feet. He came at her with a downward pointing blow, that she warded off. Quickly twisting her blade, she tried for another cut to his wrist as she completed the arc of her motion. He pressed her back harder, coming at her much more swiftly now. She could tell she was beginning to tire, and felt some uncertainty. To her logic, she had to accomplish something very soon, or suffer inevitable defeat as he wore down her endurance. Keeping her mind blank, she allowed him to back her toward a wall, feigning that she was completely crumbling. When she was nearly trapped and his momentum was forward against her, she feinted forward but then dropped into a ball, heaving off of the wall with her feet to tumble out of his reach. As she completed the quick rotation, she used the momentum to unwind her right arm, swinging the blade for  a vicious slash on his  heels. He was turning, but not fast enough. She felt the blade bite through the leather of his boots. Regaining her feet, she saw him stop and lower his blade.  "Are you hurt?" she asked him. "I am so sorry," she said, her eyes pleading with his. 

"Adonnenniel, do not be sorry," he commanded, looking at her sternly. He calmly walked to the small table, and laid down his sword. Removing his boots, he exposed his cut heels. The wounds were not deep, but were bleeding freely. Nenni felt horrible, but remained silent. If she knew nothing else, it was that her assessments of injuries and knowledge of treatments meant nothing in this world. One at a time, he held his hands over his own wounds, closed his eyes, and spoke words that only he knew. She saw that he was able to heal himself completely, but this did nothing to remove the knot in her stomach. She tried to breathe, and tell herself that this sort of thing was going to be inevitable. Yet what if she had done serious damage? It had never occurred to her that she could possibly even touch him; she had simply anticipated complete defeat. Her eyes had unfocused, staring at the floor as she sank into her thoughts and tried to regain her poise. If she was to learn combat, she would have to detach herself better than this.

Having replaced his boots, he came to her, taking back his sword and holding her hands in his own.  "I made several mistakes today, not the least of which was failing to guess how far this transference had extended. You must understand," his voice softening, "you are fighting me with my own skill, and yet you are already adapting to the fact that you must use different techniques against a larger opponent. And I would be disappointed in myself if I couldn't land at least one good blow," he smiled. "Adonnenniel, I am proud of you. You have never done this before. You remained dispassionate, you did not lose focus, you did not despair when you knew you were tiring and I was pressing you. You executed a valid strategy and it succeeded. I could not be more pleased. That being said, I must consider some alternatives, because it is all too possible that we will hurt each other badly. He moved away from her, which is when she noticed blood on her hand. 

"Thranduil?" she queried, holding up her hand in confusion. 

He grinned, and turned his wrist to show her, as he sheathed his swords. "That was your first success, though you did not know it. It was an elegant move."  With a deep breath, she released her concerns. He was fine, and she needed to return to a disciplined frame of mind. She allowed herself a small smile.

"I need far more endurance," she noted with annoyance, already feeling the soreness in her shoulder.

 "You will build stamina with time," he said. "And there is no time like the present. Come," he invited her. He took her out through the rest of the training yards, to the entrance of a forest path. He sprinted off, wanting her to follow. 

She swallowed. _I sincerely hope this body knows what to do, because a three legged arthritic dog could outrun me._  How to run had eluded her, even when she tried to learn. Her legs and lungs burned painfully after short distances, forcing her to stop, and she had no idea how to do better. _Maybe this will be different, I will try my best_ , setting off after him. Trying to recollect how to move her legs, run on the balls of her feet, don't forget to breathe, and other snatches of information she wasn't sure mattered at all, she moved along. Anticipation kept her waiting for the debilitating discomfort to settle over her, but it did not. Her lungs filled with air, her legs kept moving, and that was really all there was to it. _This feels wonderful_ ,  she marveled. Except, as she ran on, she did not see Thranduil. She stopped, listening, and heard nothing except the absolute silence around her. Something was wrong, she realized; there should be the songs of birds and the movements of other small things, not this suffocating silence. Reacting on instinct, she moved off of the forest path, but kept it in sight. Picking her way carefully and silently, she found a tree to climb and swiftly did so. Looking in all directions, including above her, she tried to understand the source of her trepidation. _Thranduil?_ she called out in her mind. _Please, answer me. I do not know what to do._

Relief flooded every vein when she heard his answer: _Do not move, meleth. Remain exactly where you are. If you can silently use your gift to obscure yourself more, do so._ The tree in which she perched was not in good health. There was little foliage on its bare boughs, yet an abundance of what appeared to be some kind of parasitic moss. Focusing on that instead, Nenni grew it much thicker around her as she remained pressed up against the trunk. She could still see out, though. Which is when they came into her view, more Orcs. These looked nastier, more brutish than the ones they'd encountered last time. 

 _This is getting ridiculous_. They were not two minutes' run from the palace. Indignantion filled her, that they dared enter what she was beginning to feel was her forest, and so close to her home. To her delight, she noticed the abundant ivy down below. _It sucks to be you_ , she thought coarsely. This time, she was in full control, and not in the least angry.  It began with the largest, ugliest looking one, that roared in rage as the vines ensnared his legs and then his hands. His companions quickly worked to hack him free, only for the vines to redouble their movement. Each new Orc ensnared attracted another, trying to stupidly aid their foul comrades. She tightened the vines on all of them, not trusting that they might not have...something, some other kind of weapon. Her husband was down there, somewhere. Just short of two dozen of them were swiftly imprisoned in this manner. All of them now were spitting and howling in rage, making enough noise to summon the dead. She remained in the tree, as he'd ordered her to do. Unconcerned, she kept an eye out to make sure more of them didn't come. Dangerously mischievous ideas surfaced. _What would be the neatest kill, and the least effort to herself?_ She saw that there were nearly dead large trees nearby, but was not certain that her blocking the path would be appreciated, if she felled them onto the creatures. Some of them held swords, which inspired a better idea. She commanded the vines to wrest the weapons from them. In a moment, an array of swords were raised into the air by the ivy, weaving threateningly. The shrieking increased in volume, if it were possible. 

Thranduil had been watching them, hidden, trying to assess their full number. He'd remained alive out of an excess of caution; he did not take needless risks. He watched them seemingly ball up in one location in the distance, and then commotion set in. He did not understand, and moved with all his stealth to where he could see better. Gaining his first clear view, he saw that they were all captives of his wife. Recalling this morning's escapade with chagrin, he knew just how surely they were bound. He had been about to move forward out of hiding, when he saw their own weapons raise into the air. Watching in disbelief, he saw the blades all move into motion at once, swinging and slashing their throats as they were bound helpless, before the steel crashed to the ground. All but one of them was dying, shrieking in terror as it watched the fate of its companions. The corpses were propped up grotesquely by the vines, looking like marionettes gone very wrong. Four more Orcs that he had not seen rushed out of nowhere, to the one still screaming. _Adonnenniel, do you see the four others?_ he sent to her. She did not reply to him, but rather he saw the vines take them in much the same way. He was becoming gravely concerned about the total number of them loose, so near to the Palace. _Do they die, or do you want them for questioning? And if so, how many?_ she asked him. _Just one_ , he said. _The screaming one._ He could not take his eyes away, as the vines reached to the nearby tree, hauling the shrieking thing several feet into the tree, gagging and binding it securely. When that was accomplished, four swords lifted up, and neatly slashed the throats of the last Orcs. 

 _Thranduil, one of your patrols approaches. Would you allow them to take away your prisoner? I need your assistance, and my instinct tells me the Orc must not see me, must not know I was here. I can wait as long as need be. The forest was angry, today..._ he heard the smile in her voice.

 _Of course, meleth._ Thranduil found his world becoming more surreal by the day. He knew by now that her request for assistance likely meant, this had cost her so dearly that she couldn't walk. But he had to admit, she had a definite sense of style. He found this whole affair to have been deeply satisfying. Enjoyable, even. In the space of an hour, he had found an opponent to match his own skill at the sword, and seen this amusing display. He had not felt so alive in two thousand years; of that he was certain.

As the patrol approached, they found their King inspecting the carnage, his sword drawn. "My Lord, we heard the noises and came swiftly." They nonetheless looked in bewilderment and disgust at the scene before them. Keeping a fully stern face, he intoned to his warriors, "The forest is growing in anger. Cut that one down, and bring him for questioning. I will be in my Hall in two hours' time. Return later to remove and burn the carcasses. These did not travel as a single group, and there may yet be more. Be vigilant." Bowing to him, they dragged the Orc back toward the Palace, still trussed in vines.

When the patrol had departed, he climbed the tree to Nenni. He found her in silent paroxysms of laughter. She tried to catch her breath. "Is it wrong, Thranduil, to be so entertained by something so serious? I do not know what comes over me sometimes. I enjoyed that far too much." Her eyes were shining, as were his. 

"If it is wrong, then we are both guilty. I confess I feel much the same as you. Meleth, can you move?" 

"Yes, certainly. I asked you for help because, what is not so certain is my ability to descend from this tree without falling. I do not hold with taking needless risks." She thought for a moment. "We can try this as I am, with you helping me, or I can bring the vines up here to make a rope of sorts...but I will weaken myself a little further, to do so. Which seems best to you?" 

"Create the rope," he said without hesitation. "I can easily carry you in my arms descending a rope of vine. I am not as confident with the first idea." 

"To where do you wish it to attach?" she asked. Thranduil indicated a preferred spot. Up it came, in a matter of seconds, layering until it was a nice thickness. He cradled her in his arm, as he had done so many times. This was unnerving for Nenni, so she held loosely to his neck, placing her head on his shoulder. She would make a better passenger if she did not look. He descended swiftly and effortlessly, setting her down. 

"I do not understand, meleth. You cannot be afraid of heights, with all that you have done?" She laughed, taking his proffered arm. "I am not afraid of heights, but of falling. Perhaps it is not so pronounced anymore, but this did not seem like a suitable time to explore that." They walked on, and he noticed that from time to time she would misstep. She would stumble without him, but was not as drained as he'd feared.

_Thranduil, may I talk about the Orc, while acknowledging my lack of experience with such matters? I wish to keep this discussion from any possibility of being heard._

_Yes, of course, Adonnenniel. You took all of them prisoner; you have earned some right to comment, I think._

_We never finished our conversation, about the coming war. There are a few things on my mind about this encounter, but as always I defer to you. S_ _omething in my mind is stirring. Did these Orc incursions into this part of the forest happen before my arrival here?"_

He thought. _They have always been a problem in the forest as a whole. But no, the encounters so near the palace, that indeed began after your arrival._

_If Lady Galadriel felt what happened to the magic here, might something darker have perceived it as well? Is there any chance they are being sent here to hunt for and destroy something as yet unknown, that they have reason to fear? Has our use of the power in the garden been able to attract the attention of those with the insight to detect such things? I have no way to know, but I am concerned. If I am right, our only chance to protect the advantage our gifts give us lies in secrecy. No word must circulate of my abilities, or I will have a target painted on my side. We both will, if it is believed that the Elvenking has come into some great power of his own. I hope I am wrong. I find it odd that I have been to the forest so few times, and that on all occasions save one, you and I encounter these creatures._ _Lastly, would you permit me to be present at your interview with this creature? I would wish to be out of sight._ _I leave these matters with you now. Thank you for hearing me._

They walked on in silence. She relished this time with him, out in the forest. She prayed that they might have such as this together, without end, even if the next few years would be difficult. Everything seemed to be pointing to getting past that hurdle. She sighed. It was going to break her heart, to see this forest burn, to know the suffering it would bring all those here. With a small snort, she repeated a favorite saying to herself: _If you weren't doing this, you'd be doing something else._ She smiled, and would keep her will resolute. They yet had time.

Minutes passed, and he broke into her thoughts. _You may come to my Hall. There are many pillars, near my throne. It is not difficult to keep out of sight, if that is your desire._

 _Thank you_ , she replied.

 _My forest will burn, Adonnenniel?_  

She felt badly, about this and many other discussions to come. _Yes. The winter before we are attacked, not enough rain will come, the forest will be dry. The Orcs and worse things that attack us will set it alight. I struggle to think of a way to counter this thing that they will do, but even on Earth there were few defenses against a fire. But either way, It is why we will need the extra food. Some of the outlying farms will be destroyed, and the game will be driven from the woods. And...there will be some elves that choose to leave these shores, before these events come to pass. But it is not the end. The Greenwood will rise again under your rule, greater than before, and healed._

He led her back up the rear passage to their chambers, where he swiftly transformed into the King she'd first met, placing his crown on his head. Nenni merely found her hooded cloak that she wore last night, and pulled it over her shoulders. She waited for his direction. They departed out of the main door to the chamber. He led her around through a rear passage, that emerged behind his throne. _I shall separate from you here, that I may remain unnoticed._ High overhead, she saw the massive antlers over his throne. He kissed the top of her head, and walked on. She pulled the cowl over her copper hair, and drew the cloak around her. She did not understand her own desperate need for secrecy, it was not like her. There were not many about, just guards stationed on different levels at the ascent to his throne, much as the day she'd been brought before him. Oddly, it was a fond memory for her; though, she could have done without trying to kneel on the broken leg. 

She had just been about to move closer to the pillars off to her right, when she saw both Tauriel and Legolas, enter from that area, at the head of a small column of guards that dragged the Orc toward the platform below the throne. She instinctively retreated further into the shadows. A perception of malevolence seemingly out of proportion to this lone enemy filled her. It gripped her heart, much as when she had visited places upon which great evil had been worked. Silently, she took deep breaths, determined to remain steadfast here. Stepping far back, she edged over to the side, wanting a location that would give her the barest view of the creature. She was so far into the shadows that it would not have been possible to notice her unless someone deliberately searched her out.

Thranduil rose from his throne, descending the stairs. Both Legolas and a guard had the Orc in an inescapable grip. She saw the King's sword play at the neck of the creature. 

"You will tell me, Orc, why your kind have seemingly nothing better to do than trespass ever more boldly across my lands. Your answer will tell whether you live, or how much you suffer before you die. I am not feeling tolerant today, and am rather tempted to send you back into the arms of the forest, that I may enjoy watching the vines strangle you. Speak quickly. Who is your master, and why were you here?"

Hissing and spitting, the creature choked out, "My master will take these lands, that are claimed in the name of the Lord of the Earth. He will take what you hide here, and crush it. In his tower, he sees. You cannot hide the power here, Elvenking, and we will return without ceasing until it is delivered to him." The thing leered and slavered at his captors.

Nenni was awash with horror as she understood their danger. _Thranduil, I beg your forgiveness for my intrusion. Kill it. We are in peril every second it lives._

Hearing her in his mind, the Elvenking twirled, neatly severing its head. "Wrong answer," he said aloud with his usual insouciance, wiping his blade clean on the thing's armor. "Remove this filth from my Hall and burn it with the rest." He returned to his throne.

 _I take my leave, my King. I return to our chambers. Thank you._ She quickly returned to the shadows behind his throne, steadying herself on the stone wall as she moved back to the passageway. She was shaking with anxiety and fatigue, and her entire thought was upon the very large goblet of wine she intended to consume on her return. 

 _You will remain where you are, Adonnenniel._ Heaving a sigh, she leaned up against the stone, trying to regain control of her body.  She was waging an inner debate about the merits of sitting down on the floor, versus her certain mortification if she were found thus.

The King lifted her into his arms. _No one will see us,_ _I_ _promise you_ , he said. She held onto him, burying her face in the warmth of his throat. Though he held her tightly, she still trembled. She was genuinely afraid, and he did not understand.

Returning to their rooms, he merely found a large chair and sat down with her in his lap. "You must tell me what troubles you, meleth," he said, stroking her back. The images in her mind were a jumbled mess, not discernible.

_It is much worse than I feared. How much do you know of the White Council, Thranduil?_

"Some. I know that their work was ultimately what drove the events surrounding Erebor. Why?"

_At that council, the three who bore the Elven rings, and Saruman, elected to force the hand of Sauron, who had hidden himself in Amon Lanc, as he regained shape. They drove Sauron out, causing him to flee back to Mordor. What is not known is that Saruman took it upon himself to master Sauron, and failed utterly._ _Saruman has betrayed the Council. This will not be revealed to the others for five more years. Saruman will take Mithrandir prisoner, revealing his shift in allegiance. Saruman has a palantír, in his tower at Orthanc. By means of this, Sauron conquers his mind. Once the war begins, he will raise a fearsome army, placing it at Sauron's disposal. Foul and evil creatures gather information for him, and are his eyes and ears.  It makes a great deal of sense to me that he knows of my existence here because of his own perceptions, and that he is positioning himself as the power that will take these northern lands and ultimately deliver them to Sauron._

_However. Other events will transpire, and Saruman will be stripped of his power, cast out from the Istari. His forces will be defeated in a great battle, and in the end he will be slaughtered. But while alive, he is dangerous. He has the ability to invade the minds of others at great distance. He will all but overthrow the Edain King of Rohan._

_When that orc entered here, I sensed a malevolence that could not have merely belonged to an orc. I was right to hide myself, but still he knew. It is my belief that Saruman was using that creature to be a window into your palace. Only by killing it was the connection broken. He also would have seen what was done to the other orcs in the forest by my gift. I have unwittingly revealed to him that there is power here, and therefore to his Master as well. It seems plain to me that he wishes me dead. Or captured, to see if I can be exploited. Perhaps he also perceives the well of power in the garden.  I am no wizard, and do not claim to understand the extent of their gifts._

She struggled to rise out of his lap, and he merely picked her up and placed her on the stone bench near the balcony, retrieving wine for both of them. "You have my permission to drink all you like, Adonnenniel, I think you deserve it. There are remedies to undo the damage."  Nenni looked at the goblet, and looked at him. Without hesitating, she drained half of the contents, feeling the vintage burn a path to her belly. It only took a few moments for her to feel more relaxed. 

As she sat there, trying to master her feelings, a sudden hardness crept over her. Slow anger began to kindle. She rose up out of her seat, placing the goblet down. "Thranduil, may I have a moment to myself? I will not be long." It did not escape his notice that the split second he nodded his assent, she tore off toward the garden. He felt a storm brewing in her mind, and heard her say to herself _I am no rabbit, to be flushed and hunted. It is obvious, how did I not see it?_

Setting down his own wine, he followed her at a respectful distance. Her information was valuable, and there was clearly far more. He knew that she would not object to his listening; what was wanted was the space and silence to think. She'd gone to the bower, the center of her own power here. The thrum of the magic underneath her feet comforted her, allowed her to slow her tangled thoughts. She tried to puzzle it through, like a chess game in reverse. _You know the outcome, she told herself. Now what are the moves by which the conclusion is reached?_

 _March 15, 3019, the Battle Under the trees. Outnumbered six to one, the forces under Thranduil will come under attack from Sauron's forces at Dol Guldur. As will Lórien, with a much greater host. Sauron will send the Easterlings against Dale and Erebor, immediately following Thranduil's victory. The diversion of these forces from the south arguably help seal the narrowly won victory. There are ten days we will need to endure afterward, and then Sauron is defeated forever, his power broken._ She held her head in her hands. _I do not yet know how to help Thranduil win this battle, I only know that he does. And it isn't like he didn't manage fine for centuries without me. Though, I am not ignorant of the forest battle tactics of Earth, few of which I see in place here. Much could be done to create better defenses._

_With my King's consent, I can hand the Dwarves of Erebor their victory. I did not spend my life in a laboratory, working with chemicals, to eat my lunch. Maybe that is the point of the entire thing. While our role to play is small on the grand scheme of the chessboard, the fact that we play it well weakens the enemy enough to help ensure their failure. Perhaps it is the same even now. You are overreacting to Saruman and the palantír. He is dangerous but he is also flawed._

_We need the Dwarves, and they need us. If we could truly cooperate as friends and allies, many lives might be saved. And, Dol Guldur will continue to be the source of the plague in these lands. Is there no way to weaken it?_ She shook her head. _These are not my decisions to make, nor do I see how to fight against magic. But nothing will stop my scheming over the possibilities that might help us, through the fifteen days I hope are the last thing this part of the world ever needs to endure. Trust your King, and trust yourself.  And there is one last thing._

Breathing deeply, she rose and looked skyward. She began to sing her songs of nature, the ones that had snatches resembling birdsong. She very much wanted the black-billed magpies to visit her, she needed their aid. With hope in her heart, she kept on, and at last one of the beautiful corvids came. She bowed deeply before it. 

"Friend, I would beseech the help of your kind, and offer in exchange anything within my power to give you. You know that the Orcs roam these lands. They come to hunt me. We can fight them, but sooner or later we will come to harm doing so. If your kind would tell us of their movements in this forest, we could prevail. Would you consider aiding me? What could I offer you in return?" 

Swiftly the bird flew to the almond tree, and returned with a single nut, placing it in her hand and tapping against it with its beak, cocking his head at her. 

"You desire these nuts?" The magpie bobbed its head twice. "You shall have them. By tomorrow, large flat baskets will be laid out underneath the largest tree. I will make it my duty to keep these filled for you, replenishing them as you take them away. Is this acceptable to you?" Again, the bobbed head.

"How will you communicate with us?" Nenni asked.  The magpie flew to her shoulder, nipping her ear gently, then flew off ahead, looking back. She followed it, and it did the same again. 

"You will find us in the forest where we may be, and lead us in the direction of the Orcs?" she inquired to confirm. The bird bowed one last time. Nenni went down on one knee before it. "I am deeply in your debt. Your kind must stay out of the sight of the Orcs, they must never realize that you assist us. Should any of you be sick or injured, come to me. You know the King's balcony. I have skill at healing birds, and would do all I could to help you. I will ensure that all elves that move in the forest understand what you will do for us, immediately. I take my leave of you." She rose, and the bird bobbed its head one last time before departing.  

True to her word, she poured out several baskets of nuts in-shell under the large tree, before she left. For the first time since the encounter in the forest, she felt as though her thoughts were suitably ordered. She stopped at a hedge of roses, gathering some of them to take back inside. As she plucked her last blossom, she felt strong hands on her shoulders. Thranduil turned her to face him, and reached down to kiss her on the lips. "You are like no other, meleth.  I hope you will pardon me, I heard everything." 

She smiled at him. "I think I almost count on it. Though, in order to think properly, I need to be able to believe that I am alone. Thank you for allowing me my delusions." She paused. "You will tell your soldiers of the magpies?"

"Yes, meleth. I will summon Legoals immediately, to ensure that before the sun sets all are informed."

 She squeezed his hand, bowing her head to him. "Thank you, Thranduil."

 "Adonnenniel. I may have survived for thousands of years alone, but I did not get along just fine. Your modesty and acquiescence to me warms my heart, but I am no fool. The advantages you bring will ensure the safety of our people to an extent not possible before. You must not hesitate to share your knowledge, ideas, anything at all. Please. Now that I see an outline of what lies ahead, we must make the most of it." 

"As you wish. I would like to ask you some more questions, and I believe there is an unfinished goblet of wine somewhere back inside."

Sitting on the bench with him, wine in hand, she tucked her feet up so that her back was braced securely against him. _She has so many odd postures_ , Thranduil noted, endeared. "Thranduil, at this time, if I were to ask King Dain what grievances he has against us, how would he reply?"

She felt him sigh behind her. "You are aware, this is an argument that runs back to the time of Doriath, with endless reproaches on both sides as to who was to blame for what, and why. I, too, was caught up in some of this, thought not to the extent other Elves were. There was blame to go around, in all that mess. Yet when Thror came under the spell of his golden hoard, I did little to help. I was proud, difficult, condescending. Being right about something does no good, if it cannot be said to others in a way that they can hear it. Add in the anger of Thorin when I would not risk the lives of our people to aid them when Smaug came, and there is cause enough for grudges. And let us not forget that I imprisoned the Dwarves of Erebor, as they made their way to reclaim the mountain. How exactly the hobbit released them, I never did understand, but their time in my dungeons was a mark against me in their eyes. Though we have an uneasy alliance after the events of the last battle, and what good I did manage, there is still mistrust and suspicion that has not been allayed. It is hard to undo animosity that has festered for thousands of years." 

"You do not know how they escaped?" she asked, amused. 

Thranduil turned his gaze to hers. "You do?" he demanded, taken aback. 

"Well, yes. That was one of the best parts of the story. Bilbo Baggins found Sauron's Ring, deep beneath the Goblin realm of the Misty Mountains. He took it from...you will find out, soon enough. The One Ring granted him invisibility, and he lived in your Halls, unseen, until he worked out a way to have the Dwarves escape your dungeons." Thranduil's eyes enlarged.

"The Halfling bore that? Here?? Would that I had captured him and it; much might have been different."

"NO, Thranduil." She left her perch on the bench to kneel on the floor in front of him, her hands clasped to his knees. Her eyes were wide with fear. "Never say such a thing, even in jest. This thing would have undone you, to the ruin of all. It is filled with the evil of its Maker, and there are none who can withstand it. I am filled with gratitude that you possess none of the three Elven rings, either. Your wholeness, your chance for a happy future in Arda...all of those things would be torn from you, with any of these objects in your possession. With all that I am, I beg you, heed my words. The cost for some things is too great."

He did not search her deeply. But he saw the suffering, the agony of mind, the undoing, that came with this thing. That not even Galadriel or Mithrandir would attempt to claim it. He came to understand that the weariness of wielding the Three would cause their bearers to leave this shore, seeking  rest.

"Then it is fortunate that I have your counsel, Adonnenniel. I did not understand. We will return our discussion to the Dwarves, and I will ask nothing further about this thing."

She rose up, kissing him full on the mouth, in relief and appreciation. Composing herself, she sat back down at his side, collecting her thoughts back to the original topic.

"Are the Dwarves honorable people, to your mind?" 

Thranduil laughed. "In some ways, they have proved more honorable than myself, with my checkered past. Yes, they are."

"Do you feel strongly enough about this, that if they were given superior weaponry, that you would trust them to have that advantage? Because that is what I could teach them, if you brought Dain into your confidence. Via their smithcraft, they possess the technology to construct some of the weapons of my world. It might be a way to mend fences, a gesture of trust and humility. But a risky one, if the recipient has an unworthy heart. And, the idea frightens me. This is knowledge that can not be un-known, once no longer needed. I fear to bring greater evil into this world, even though my motive would be to fight the evil already here."

"Meleth, what are these weapons, of which you speak?" 

"There are too many to count, but here is what I specifically thought would be possible." She placed her goblet down and turned to him, touching his bare skin. She closed her eyes and showed him artillery and heavy cannons, mortars; the kinds of projectiles they could fire, and the kind of damage done to bodies struck by them. Particularly with the use of canister shot, which turned a field weapon into an oversized shotgun. And how placed for crossfire, these could mow down anything in their path. The assorted uses of black powder, including creating landmines, and how sappers might lay mines under a future battle location, and blow their explosives later. The technology of Earth warfare from ancient times up to the US Civil War should be largely possible. And perhaps even things like grenades and flamethrowers were not out of the question.

"There are many options, depending on what materials are to be found here. There is vitriol, which eats the flesh away and blinds; incendiary devices, that burn and spread fire;  and worse. You have sulfur and pitch, quicklime, even boiling water and therefore steam. And I think I need more wine," she sighed. Her shoulders ached, and the wine made her forget about it.

Sighing with exasperation, he went for the bowl of salve. "Remove your armor," he said. "I don't think you will need it again today."

She began to do as she was asked. Coming behind her, he loosened her clothing and exposed her shoulders. 

"I really don't mean to forget that the salve exists," she told him. 

"Then it is fortunate that my memory is less faulty," he teased, beginning to apply it to her. 

An involuntarily groan of pleasure escaped. "Maybe the truth is, your attentions feel so good that I cannot bring myself to interfere. I hope I am allowed a few indulgences." She thought. "Do you never suffer soreness or pain of this kind? I would gladly do the same for you."

"Rarely. I would have to exert myself for days, to experience this. Your body will settle, eventually, and this will not be the case so often." 

"That almost sounds disappointing. I will miss this," she laughed. Changing the subject, she asked him, "Tomorrow is back to work, then? I feel as though my plate of things to achieve is filling up."

"Yes," he replied. We will meet with the trade council, which should yield a production schedule. We may also meet with my generals and commanders. This matter of the magpies is frankly ingenious. If you have information on  forest defenses I wish them to hear it. Then there is your weapons training, which will need to be nearly daily for a long time to come. And perhaps our run in the forest might not be interrupted if we try again. I believe we will have a full day."

"You wish me to accompany you to all these things?" she asked, uncertain she had understood him. 

"That is correct."

"Then I should prepare for at least one of those tonight." Nenni looked up at him. "Thranduil, can you tell me how...how will elves feel about the idea of changing the forest in order to defend it? I do not mean clear-cutting or wanton forms of damage. I am trying to gain a sense of how intervening with the natural world is felt emotionally by your people. For example, if one suggestion was to dig out a wide, long trench to hamper enemy movement or create a trap, would that be viewed as violating the forest? There are some even on Earth who believe that cutting a single limb on a dead tree is wrong. I want to be respectful of the feelings of your people. I also need to be sure I understand something correctly. From what I have seen of the forest, much of it is dense and impassible, save by the paths elves make and use. Am I wrong?"

"Given what you have revealed to me of the future, much will be destroyed regardless. While I appreciate your wish to be sensitive, you should concern yourself with making all options available, however repugnant they may seem to our eyes. War requires hard choices, and no possibility should be removed from consideration. And, yes, you are correct in what you surmise about the nature of the woods."

"One last question. Am I discussing strategy to counter the orc incursions into the woods, or is this a full blown analysis for the battle to come?"

"The former," he answered.

"May I see a map of the Greenwood?" she asked. 

Thranduil rang for Galion. For a meal, for more wine, for Legolas, and for a map. Nenni tried to sink back into her head, recalling what she had learned about this sort of warfare. She snorted. From an offensive standpoint, the running advice was, _don't_. Which made this sort of fun, in her mind. They had so many advantages, as defenders. The terrain, their knowledge of the paths, vines and trees in abundance, the fact that the lot of them were crack archers, the list was long. She needed something to write on, and went looking for parchment, re-seating herself at the worktable.

"Thranduil, the water of the Enchanted River. How does it work? Does a person have to fall in to be affected? What if the water was bottled and spilled on them?"

"I honestly do not know." 

"Hm. I now have a perfect use for the next prisoner, she quipped." She started to write a list of possible assets. Trenches, snares, assorted above-and-below ground booby traps: spike traps, deadfall traps, bow traps, punji traps, net traps, whip traps, winter conditions, narrowing paths, collapsible bridges; there were a lot of options. The hard part was figuring out something that could kill in numbers, unattended. Which might not even be a good option, really. It made more sense to have kill zones, areas that could be trapped swiftly in advance of an approaching patrol, causing them to be disabled and corralled quickly, so that elves could kill with ranged weapons, staying out of harm's way. Or, simply areas that would force the enemy into single file or some other vulnerable formation. From what she'd seen, Orcs weren't terribly clever. She crossed her arms and put her head into her bent elbow, trying to think. No type of ballistic device useful in forest conditions came to mind, though heavy stones as counterweights could be utilized. Large crossbow-type instruments could be rigged, but then the problem arose of increasing accidental danger to the defensive forces...she didn't need a maimed or dead elf on her conscience. She reared up suddenly, thinking. These were almost always scenarios in which terrain and traps were leveraged to take out a larger, ill-prepared force on unfamiliar ground using rapid and decisive attacks. And honestly, she didn't see how any of what she could say would be helpful. These were surely people with centuries of experience in warfare who knew their own territory?  

Nenni lowered her head once again, searching for what she might have missed. There were strategies from the forest battles of the world wars, but those involved heavy armaments and huge infantries...there wasn't an obvious comparison. Perking up once more, she wondered about the giant spiders of which she'd been told. Did they hunt orcs? _The enemy of my enemy is my friend_ , she thought. But that didn't seem like the best option either, they sounded vile. _Did it get very cold here, in winter? Could orcs die of exposure?_ She almost felt as though if she were going to find anything worth suggesting, she needed to know the forest, and really she did not. Her thoughts grew quieter, as her breathing became more rhythmic. Hands lifted her out of the chair. "I am awake," she protested, blinking. She wrapped her arms around his neck, nestling against him. He sat down in a chair, cradling her. He opened his mind to her, showing her the forest paths. 

"They are coming from Dol Guldur," she said, her eyes closed. "What is the forest road like? Wait. No. Disregard that. There has to be someplace within a half day's march of here, or less, where the road narrows or can be made to narrow, where the terrain has some valleys, crosses a river, is forced on the rim of a hill, or against a steep cliff...something. A place where a pack of them can be herded and butchered. Can you think of any such place?" Thranduil showed her more images, yet...

"Forgive me, this won't work. I do not know what is involved exactly, but I must see these places for myself. I know the distances are vast. Perhaps there are define sections on the forest tracks that it would make sense to survey? The only question is, how close do you wish these things to be able to approach to the palace before being eradicated?"

At the end of her question, a heavy knock came at the door. Legolas preceded Galion into the chamber. Nenni rose from where she had been held in the King's lap. Seeing this, Legolas began to blush faintly. "Please Legolas," she walked to him laughing gently, her arms held open to him. "You interrupted nothing. I am merely too greedy for closeness with your Adar." She embraced him warmly. 

"You are well, Nenni?" asked Legolas, looking at her incredulously. She could not have appeared more different than the last time he had seen her. Beaming, she answered him: "Yes, I am. Your Adar is a gifted healer, and I am greatly in his debt."  Inclining her head to them, she then retreated so that Thranduil might speak with the Prince. 

"Do not leave, Adonnenniel. I am hardly going to stand here and take credit for what you have accomplished," said the King. 

Legolas looked at them, puzzled. "Wine, Legolas?" he asked, gesturing for both of them to be seated at the work table, pouring his son a goblet. He offered to refill Nenni's, but she declined. Seating himself, Thranduil looked at her, and gesturing to Legolas said, "Please, explain."

She had ever been one to work from behind the scenes; it inherently felt the most comfortable. There was no desire to be the center of attention. Yet once it was made clear to her that she was expected to take up the mantle of leadership, she did not shy away.  It was actually a strong talent of hers, albeit one that placed her under more strain. Perceiving on some level that her King was testing this, she complied.

"Legolas, when you visited last, we had brief discussion regarding the Orcs. I mentioned in passing that you might ask the birds of the forest for their help. Today, after I returned here from the events in the forest and the King's interrogation of the prisoner, I took it upon myself to do just that. In our garden, the black-billed magpies that roam the forest have proven to be friends to me. I have asked them for small favors in the past, gifting them with foods they prefer in exchange. This time, in exchange for a greater gift, they have agreed to inform us of orc packs that any of them see in the forest. We must protect them; it cannot ever be revealed to the orcs or any outsiders that they aid us, lest we endanger them. And, there is more on this. I have reason to believe that a malevolent power may be sharing the minds of orcs that come to the forest. What the stupid orcs see and hear, the cunning intelligence with them will also. Which is why it is critical that no careless comment ever be made about the magpies around any of them. These packs are not coming here randomly; evil purpose is behind them.

If the magpies find a pack, they will seek out our patrols, wherever they may be. They will land on our bodies, perhaps nipping gently at an ear or...whatnot...to command attention. They will then fly in the compass direction of the patrol, beckoning you to follow. All Elves seem to have the gift of understanding birds and beasts; perhaps you know of ways to gather  information such as distance and the size of the pack...this is all new to me.  What is important is that every elf who roams the forest must understand the arrangement, and that no magpie must ever come to harm; I have taken personal responsibility for this. The birds were also told, that if one of their number is ever sick or injured, they must come to me immediately. I have skill in the healing of birds, and I will aid them if I can." Turning to Thranduil, she said "Is this what you wished, my King?"

"Yes, thank you Adonnenniel." Turning to Legolas, he said, "before the sun has set, I want this information disseminated throughout all of our guards and patrols. I charge you with this duty. Tomorrow, at the first bell after the noon meal, you will convene the generals and commanders in council. There is further information that will be...raised...by the queen and myself regarding these Orc incursions, at that time. If there is nothing further, you may take your leave, Ionneg," he said warmly.

"Adar, Nenni", Legolas said, bowing before he departed. Nenni watched him retreat, realizing how much she had missed spending time with him. She knew, wistfully, that her time with Legolas would be short. His brilliant future lay far from her own, and she should find a way to enjoy him while she could. Though she had no memories of bearing him, she found that with each time she laid eyes on him, her affection for him grew without reason. A great pride for the elln he had become filled her, and her heart wished for nothing more than his happiness and safety. As these emotions tore through her, she did not know what to make of them. Were these the feelings of a mother, she wondered? They were foreign to her, yet grounded in love. She shook her head, pushing the thoughts away.

Thranduil spun her around to face him, his eyes boring into her own as he gripped her shoulders tightly. "What do you mean, your time with Legolas will be short?" 

Nenni looked back at him, full of sympathy. She'd not even considered what this meant for a father and his son, such was her utter inexperience with parental feelings. 

"Thranduil, I will tell you all you wish to know. But before I do, I will ask you: If I were to tell you that he leads a full life with a happy future, working good wherever his paths take him, and that he does not ever come to harm, do you still wish to know the answer?" She held his gaze firmly, determined to spare him a small burden if she could. His eyes began to soften, as fear and anger yielded to reflection. He released her shoulders.

"I may yet wish to know, Adonnenniel. But not just now. I will place my trust in your words." She reached up on her toes, to kiss him softly, and embrace him.

Suddenly the aromas of their meal made it to her nose. Laughing at her, he nudged her toward the food. They ate, and afterwards she felt unaccountably drowsy. Seeing this, and knowing that this had been an eventful day for her, he decided he would not fault himself for tipping her into sleep. He lifted her to their bed, and pulled a covering over her. Smiling contentedly, he decided to walk the halls of the palace. Many hours later, he returned and laid down beside her, falling into an untroubled slumber.


	8. Meetings and Schedules

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited, version 2.0 [Rhiw 4, Imladris. November 27, Gregorian]

Nenni woke in the darkness, feeling completely refreshed. Blinking her eyes twice, she could feel that her body desired no more sleep, and that trying to return to it would be useless. As she sat up smoothly, the starlight showed the sleeping form of her husband. He laid on his side, next to her. Her hand tentatively reached out, wanting to stroke his hair, but she feared to wake him. Gazing on him, the first pieces of an understanding came over her. At what future point was not certain, and indeed seemed very far off to her; but one day, she would conceive his child. The thought caused her trepidation, and was summarily banished. When the time came that the idea held no fear or reservation, she would be ready. With an uncertain smile, this topic was pushed down deep, and locked away in the furthest recesses of her mind. 

Thinking to go to the practice room, she rose carefully. Yesterday had hardly given her time to lay her hands on the knives, and time with them sounded very appealing. Retrieving the corset and gorget, she thought it made sense to always practice with the armor, until it felt like a part of her. Looking back at beautiful Thranduil one last time, she noticed an opportunity for misbehavior. His long hair was mostly swept behind him, and one of the decorative tassels from a large pillow laid across it. With all her best stealth, she stole near to his flaxen locks and carefully braided the tassel into his hair, installing a few fishbone weaves to tangle up the bottom strands, so that it would not come undone too easily. Smugly enjoying that his head was successfully anchored to a large pillow  (albeit not very well), she left through the passageway to the halls below, donning her armor as she walked. In the practice room, all the weapons were still laid on the table, including the armory longsword with which she'd not practiced. Feeling drawn to it, she took it up first; an overwhelming need to feel her body move came over her. At first her steps described simple drills, but the fluid motions that led the blade in arcs around her body, changing hands and shifting her weight as her feet moved and spun, drove her to more. This blade was not quite as elegant and balanced as the King's, but neither was it markedly inferior. She wished to wheel and tumble and use her legs, and began incorporating  gymnastic elements into her exercise.  Her body felt powerful and agile, only being limited by gravity. And at the moment, even that seemed to have little pull. There were discoveries: she could twist and flip through the air, run to the walls and bank off the corners, and even use the point of the sword as a fulcrum off of which to cartwheel and spin. At last she stopped, feeling deliciously winded and exhilarated. Why this was so different than even yesterday, made little sense. It was as if her body has been asleep, and had now awakened.

She returned the sword to the table, allowing time to catch her breath, and took up the knives. Slowly at first, as Tauriel had shown her, she began to spin them in her hands. A time or two, she dropped one or the other, but it was not long before they freely moved as a part of her. Thranduil could use these weapons, and therefore so could she. There was a dummy target in one corner of the room, and she began throwing the knives at it, murdering it with gleeful accuracy. So good did they feel in her hands, she had to force herself to return them to the table. Next her eyes fell on the bow, but it was getting on toward morning; the faint peal of the great clock informed her it was near to sunrise. If she left now, there would be time for an extra long soak in the pool. Recalling that she was not eager to have her shoulder ache again, she bit her lip. _Just one draw_. The familiar burn came to her shoulders, but as she did not hold the string nearly so long this time, it abated just as quickly. Returning the bow to its place before further temptations could affect her, she left the room. Trotting back up the steps, still wanting to feel in motion, she slowed to a walk at the entrance to the chamber. While loosening the straps on her armor, she saw that Thranduil was no longer in bed. Immediately suspicious, she froze in place. Absolutely still, she looked carefully at all visible points in the room, and saw no sign of him. Her eyes narrowed as she weighed her options, knowing some form of revenge would be forthcoming. None of her choices seemed very good, as she would have to face him eventually. _No matter_ , she thought. _It was just a little braid._

Disrobing and making herself tea, she returned to the pool with anticipation. Just enough chill lingered in the air that the thought of the water alone brought delight. Nenni placed her cup down at the edge of the pool, and took a moment to pin up her hair, her back turned to the room. She stepped into the water and stifled a shriek. It was ice cold, and she jumped back, recoiling. 

"Naughty elleth do not deserve heated water," came the silky voice from behind her. She turned to see him, grinning widely, clutching the pillow to him in which his hair was entangled. "Close your eyes," he demanded.

  _Resistance is futile_ , she thought, remembering a favorite line from Star Trek. She held them shut, listening to him fiddling with something on the other side of the pool. 

When he'd returned, he said "You may now undo this tangled mess," he said, handing her the pillow. Her nimble fingers quickly unworked the woven hair, freeing him. She struggled to suppress the thought that involved braiding him to the wall, next time. 

"I heard that. And here I was very nice to you, Adonnenniel. I considered throwing you into the pool." 

These words gained quite a luxurious reaction."Please, no, never do that. I cannot be cold." Her eyes widened, as she realized she'd just handed him knowledge of something greatly dreaded, on a platter. "Oh, no" she groaned, her face in her hands.

"Well, that little slip made my whole morning worthwhile," he said, twining his arms around her. 

"But it isn't fair!" she exclaimed petulantly, "you have so many advantages already." 

"Like being able to bind you with vines?" he asked, not in the least perturbed. Nenni flushed. "I have to have something! You are stronger, have more endurance, know more tricks. And vines don't work where there are no vines!" she said, gesticulating around them. He had her thoroughly bothered, and was enjoying himself to no end. In her frustration, she threw her weight back into him, trying to set him off balance so she might run for it. The maneuver was a complete failure. 

"You are feisty, this morning," he purred, as she glowered at him. 

Her struggles against him amused him further, so she stuck her tongue out at him in a last gesture of defiance. Unable to keep a straight face at seeing his expression of indignation, she laughed helplessly, relaxing against his grip. "I will offer no further resistance," she said, smiling. 

"That much is correct," he said, as he filled her mind with his desire. She had no ability to withstand this, as her own body reacted with a heated surge of yearning for him.

"I told you you had more tricks," as she reached up to kiss him hungrily. 

"Yes, I do", he said, backing away from her. She realized then that he meant to set her aflame, with no way to douse the fire. 

"You would do this to me?" she asked, in disbelief. 

"It depends," he teased back. "Let me see how nicely you can ask for what you want." 

Stubborn though she was, she realized her defeat. She did not want to carry burning sexual need through hours of meetings and training, all the while with him near and enjoying every moment of her discomfiture. Besides, swallowing her pride was nowhere near as hard for her. 

"Please, Thranduil, do not leave me like this," she asked sincerely. 

He smiled. "Not bad, but your posture could be better." He flooded her mind with more desire, increasing the feeling in her body. Nenni gasped involuntarily, subsuming the thoughts by which she would plot against him, but good, in revenge for this. She knelt before him. 

"Please, my King. Please. I will never endure the day like this, as well you know. Show me mercy." She did not look up, lest he take even that as a challenge. She could feel her loins surging with need. He'd won, unquestionably. His arms raised her up into his kiss, as he carried her to lay her on the bed. Their banter had excited him, and he entered her quickly. A low moan escaped her, so much relief did she feel when his body joined to hers. He pulled out just as abruptly. 

"On second thought," she heard him say, as she felt his hands lift her and flip her effortlessly onto her stomach. He lifted her hips and spread her legs, re-entering her from behind, but then just as swiftly pushed her hips back down against the bed. He leaned down to find her ear with his mouth, catching it gently between his teeth. He began to thrust into her hard, focusing the attentions of his mouth to her ear, neck and throat. Nothing he did ever was cause for complaint, but this position brought her exceptional pleasure. Driving himself into her until he knew she was at the edge, he wrapped his arm around her collarbones and plunged into her with extra force as his own release came, arching her back. Though her throat was silent, her mind screamed at the gratification coursing through her. The last wave had hardly subsided when she felt him lifting her up again, heading for the pool. 

Panic washed over her, thinking he meant to make good on throwing her into the cold water. _Please, no,_ she begged him. He kept walking, smiling. She tensed herself against the horrible cold, only to finally feel her foot touch the heated water. So great was her relief at this, she did not try to tease or reproach him. _Thank you,_ was her only thought.  He left her seated in the pool, and then went to exchange her now very cold tea for hot, reuniting her with the beverage.

He sat next to her, kissing her softly. "Meleth, you do not seem to dislike cold water so much as fear it. Why is this?" 

She showed him her memories, and told him."I do not know if the problem still affects me; likely it does not. On Earth I had a condition in which if my body was exposed to icy water, the blood vessels would contract. My skin would turn white or blue, with stabbing pains. In wintertime, my whole body would often go cold at least once a day, and I was unable to get warm again, even if I wrapped myself in half a dozen blankets. The only relief came from being in hot water for a very long time; it might take me twenty minutes or longer to feel warm again, even in a pool such as this. It was a long-standing unpleasantness. The memory has remained."

He pulled her to him, looking in her eyes. "I am sorry," he said. "I would never knowingly do such as that to you. And if this is still an ailment that troubles you, I may be able to correct it." She placed her cup down, and wrapped her arms around him in silent thanks. 

_You may tease and torment me all you wish. It is in good fun. But you will always be my refuge, Thranduil. You are the one I look to for safety and security, even when I do not really even need it. As near as I can tell,  it is the way of any woman with the man who has claimed her heart._

"I know, meleth. And there is never a moment in which I do not cherish it, and you." She wished times like this would last all day, but alas, they did not. 

"What is the morning agenda, my King?" she asked. 

"I offer you a choice, for the start of it. A light breakfast here, and a run in the woods to follow; or, some activity of your choosing now, and breakfast in the Great Hall."  She pondered for a moment. "If I take the former, could we bring Beren with us?" she asked. It had been days since she had seen her dog, and she felt terrible. He used to be her constant companion, and she knew she was slowly abandoning him. It stabbed at her heart, to admit it to herself.

Perceiving these thoughts, Thranduil looked at her in sympathy. His wife had given up much, when she was brought here. It dawned on him that in the landscape of her emotions, she had given over Beren's place to him, and that she had sacrificed this attachment for his sake. Her strongest bond had been relinquished, out of regard and love for him. How could he have been so blind?

"Adonnenniel. Of course you may bring Beren. And, I ask your forgiveness, for not understanding sooner what your separation from him has cost you. There is no need to choose between us. He will live here, from now on."

Nenni's eyes began to fill with tears but she fought them down. "Thranduil, are you certain that you understand what you are saying? He can be an immense....handful. He will sleep on the bed, get hair on your fine clothes, drool for food at dinnertime, bark until the walls echo, and I don't even wish to mention what he will do when we love each other, unless you can tell him otherwise. It is because of things like this that I never asked."

"Would your happiness increase, to have him here?" he asked. 

 _You already know the answer_ , she replied without words. 

"Then there is nothing else to discuss, meleth."  

 _I do not have words for your kindness to me, except to thank you with all that I am._ She did not deteriorate into the sobbing mess that would have been inevitable a few days ago, but some tears flowed nonetheless. He held her, rubbing her back. 

"You must not use your energy on such thoughts, meleth. There is much to do today, and two councils would wear even me down." She nodded against him, and rinsed her face in the warm water before leaving the pool. The same clothes as earlier sufficed, but her hair was let down to try and comb it out somewhat. _With all the activity lately, it really should be braided. Something. Perhaps a loose fishbone, which did not look so severe or childish?_

Thranduil cleared his throat behind her. "I will frown if you take my job away, meleth."

"I did not understand that you liked to work on my hair that much; I will not make the mistake again. Please, where would you like me?" He gestured to a chair, and she sat. This weave was one he had not seen before, but he understood quickly what to do. "Do you have the skill to begin the pattern at the top of my head? If so I would love that, but anything is fine. I like it woven more loosely. Though, if you tighten the weave at the very end, it will take a long while to unravel. Thank you, for doing this." With astounding swiftness, he was done, and it was beautiful work. Her eyes were shining at how pleasing it looked. She stood up and kissed him. "I may comb yours?" she asked. He traded places with her. Carefully and swiftly, she combed out what few tangles there were. Nenni dried the long strands more with a towel, as she worked. Before she released him, she buried her face once in his flaxen hair, inhaling his scent deeply.

They ate quickly, helping themselves to fresh and dried fruits and some of her granola, which had begun to appear regularly on the sideboard. She did not take it with milk, lest it weigh down her stomach before running. They made their way out the rear corridor again, this time stopping at the armory. He'd insisted she don her armor, and also found harnesses in which to sheathe her knives and a scabbard for the blade. "Neither of us will venture outside these halls again unarmed, Adonnenniel. Our last outing showed me that it is far too risky; I will not have either of us vulnerable. Though your gift is powerful, it is best to keep every advantage." She retrieved her weapons, sans bow, from the practice rooms as he instructed. 

They stopped at the kennels, where Thranduil was treated to another of the great dog's operatic greetings of his mistress. She happily rolled on the floor with him, whispering her joy to Beren, that they would no longer be parted. He licked her face all over, and then took a step back from her with a wild look in his eye. Soon he was barking full in her face. "Beren, what are they feeding you? You look bigger! After you, hound dog." The King watched this. His relationship to his elk was the closest comparison he had, and he could not entirely fathom her attachment. But he saw that it was sincere, and that it brought her great joy. That was enough for him. He sighed, knowing that he would have to endure certain inconveniences in this new arrangement he had offered. But for her happiness, it would be very little to give. Nenni started to follow Beren, looking back at the King with her eyes as alive with good spirits as he had yet seen. Returning her gaze, he too gave chase. The powerful dog raced down the track, and for the first time in her life, Nenni could keep pace with him...though for how long, she did not know. She playfully reached out to grab at his hindquarters as she ran, seeking to pass him. Beren responded with a burst of speed that left her behind, as she laughed. Thranduil had to admit, he was impressed. He'd known Beren could run and track, but not in the manner of the perfect athleticism that now greeted his eyes. The dog was built like a great wildcat; his large lungs powering the full extension of his elegant body. 

With Nenni forced to slow her pace lest she become completely winded, Thranduil closed the distance between them. She looked at the King as they ran beside each other, then at Beren, then back to her King. "Is he not beautiful to watch?" she asked, clearly besotted.

They ran on for some time, when  Nenni began to be concerned, lest Beren find something worth chasing and run too far ahead. They had a full schedule today, and it would not be well to have to spend the morning in the woods recovering him.  It was time to test an idea. "Thranduil, would you please try and call him back to us using your mind? Or allow me to call him through your mind? It would not go amiss to learn what means we have for communicating with him silently."  Thranduil did so, and Beren stopped and looked back but did not move to return. "Send my thoughts to him, please," she asked. _Beren. Come. What he asks, is what I ask. Accept him, as you do me; he is our King_.

With characteristic stubbornness, Beren walked back slowly toward them when he might have run, but come he did. Nenni stopped to wrap her arms around him and kiss the top of his head. "Good boy", she murmured. Her husband also knelt down to the dog's level, inviting him to come near. Beren did so slowly, sniffing cautiously.  When Thranduil  could touch him, he said his own words to the dog. Nenni watched Beren's tail begin to wag furiously, as Thranduil petted him. She battled down her tears of happiness, and astonishment. Beren ignored most others, content to be left alone. He could be solitary, and was not always affectionate, even to her. And to watch Thranduil lowering himself, to interact with her beloved hound...her heart swelled to him in gratitude.

Thranduil took away from his communing with Beren something quite different that what his wife had seen. He was uncertain, but he felt strongly that Beren was not...usual. There had been only one other real interaction with the dog, weeks ago, and that did not make a good basis for comparison. The intelligence he found in Beren seemed to be rising, and fae of the animal did not now appear to be _mortal_.   He felt a certain awe. Huan, the great hound of Oromë, had once roamed Arda; a great ally and a mighty hunter in his own right. That animal possessed unusual gifts of the Valar, including immortality. He would ordinarily dismiss the thought as ridiculous, but everything connected to his wife had come with unusual power and blessings. Yet he feared to be wrong about this. With her newly healed in her mind, any subject even touching on loss or thoughts of grief was best kept far from her.  He decided to keep silent on the matter.  Either way, time would tell. 

They all ran on for a time, Beren easily keeping pace with the two elves. Nenni felt wild and alive, to be in the forest, admiring every detail; the texture of the frosty earth, the nip of the early winter air, the dimming colors of the deciduous trees whose last leaves had almost fallen. If he had not stopped her, she might have tried to run the length of the forest river. At last he signaled that it was time to return. As the leagues passed beneath their light and noiseless footfalls, Thranduil spoke.

"Adonnenniel, why did you name him Beren?"  

Nenni laughed. "Tinivel asked me the same, once. But I confess I gave her only a partial answer."

But Nenni found that as she tried to gather the words to properly answer him, her emotions bound up in knots. She'd hated what Thingol had done to the real Beren, and Lúthien. Her admiration for their bravery in obtaining the Silmaril knew no bounds. And lastly, the sacrifices made for the real Beren...the choice of Lúthien occupied a very delicate place in her psyche. Before tears could fill her eyes and her own feelings undo her, she simply replied to her husband, "He was great, was he not?"

Following all this, Thrandui realized that the name had been no whimsical choice on her part. With softness and compassion in his voice, he only gave his agreement: "Yes, meleth, he was." And he let the matter rest. But she spoke again. 

"I did not tell you, how I came to have him. After the events you saw in my mind, how I killed the dog back on my farm...I came to hate dogs. I shot another dog later on, though I am only just now recalling it. I hated them, I hated their owners. I hated their aggression and their instinct to be predators. It came to be a...a thing in my mind, that grew and took on an irrational life of its own. And this was a sadness to me, because I had loved dogs so very much in the past. I knew it was a tear in my already damaged mind that needed healing, but I did not know how to cross to the other side.  One day, a friend wrote me a letter, telling that their hunting hounds had had puppies, and would I like to have one? They would let me choose any of the nine pups that I wished. I did not want a dog, but I knew that I should have a dog. This was the best  chance I would have, to repair my perspective. I thought for perhaps a week, before I even began to discuss it with Michael. We agreed that we would travel to see the puppies, that were not yet a month old. When we arrived, they were all in a room. The noise was simply unholy, all the squeals and groans. I was shown a female, very attractive. But I wanted a male. The dog I had as a child was female, and I wished to experience something different. So they held up Beren to me. He was the largest of all of them, and the only one with this gray brindle coloring. His eyes were so tiny then, and yet his little feet were already so large. And even so young, he preferred solitude. When he was placed in my arms, I felt as I did when being handed a human baby. Uncertain, uncomfortable, and feeling like it was a little alien. He made so many appalling noises, and I knew that he was the one. You can see his parents, in my mind. How Beren came from those two, is beyond me. Beren's mother was even called Ugly Dog, and I could not argue. They asked me to name him, so that they could speak it to him until it was the right time for me to bring him home. He was more than nine weeks old, and he weighed seventeen pounds, the day I came to take him. It felt more serious than marriage, as I knew this would change my life.

For the first five months, everything was a battle of wills that I was determined to win. I was very hard on him, very strict. His spirit was very strong, and I was not going to tolerate a large dog that felt he had to listen to no one. It was a struggle and there were many times that I wondered what I had gotten myself into, because in many ways I did not like him. One time my husband had to take Beren on a vacation without me, just so that I could have time away. And then one day, it began to get better. Maybe I had decided to be more reasonable. Maybe I had gone soft. Maybe I was tired of my life with him being a constant daily battle for dominance. Maybe it was his hormones finally settling down. He is four years old now, in the prime of his life, but not nearly so...ungovernable... as when he was very young. 

The accident that brought me here, I am not certain he was meant to come. I told you the day I was brought before you, that I was on my farm, when the great wind came. What I did not mention was that I was struggling with Beren, trying to pull him away from the tree we were under, so we could return inside to the safety of the house. I could not budge him, and the tree limb fell on me. Though I am uncertain, I would guess that it was responsible for the injuries I had. It was more than heavy enough to kill me. And then, we were here, in your forest. Even then, Beren was chasing something, though I was too hurt to find out what. It was a great relief to me, when I was told he was safe." 

Thranduil listened to all of this, fascinated. He rather suspected that Beren had indeed been brought here purposefully. But his thoughts were interrupted. 

"Thranduil, there is something I have long wanted to ask you, about that day. When I was brought before you, and you chastised me for failing to kneel to you...did you know, that I had remained standing because my leg was broken, and that shackled, I could not kneel without hurting myself?"

On hearing this question, he stopped running, and turned slowly to face her. "Yes, meleth, I did." 

Nenni frowned. "You wished to see my disposition, if I would obey you despite the difficulty?" 

"Yes."

"If I understood correctly, I was dying from my injuries when your patrol brought me to the Halls. You saved my life, but left me with damage that was not fatal, until you could...evaluate me?" 

"Yes." 

"What had happened to me? Why was I dying?"

"You were bleeding, slowly, inside of your head. Before very long, this would have killed you."

"How long was I unconscious, from when you saved my life to when I was brought to you?"

"Two days."

At last, she had a timeline of events that had never been clear. "Thank you, for your patience with my questions. I appreciate that you would answer."

"You are not ...?" 

She reached up to silence him with a soft kiss. "I harbor no resentment, Thranduil. I owe you my life. While I wish it might have been a little more comfortable for me, you  acted as you saw fit. You could imprison me now, and you would not offend me; you are the King. I only wished to understand what had happened, exactly. No one ever told me, in anything resembling precise terms. Besides," she smirked," the bed in the dungeon was really quite nice. I recall feeling well-treated. Though, I also thought it very funny."

"Being in my dungeon was funny?" he asked, incredulous. 

"Well, not strictly speaking. But after I realized the extent of my injuries, it was very amusing to me, to find myself locked in a cell. I wondered, did the bunch of you expect that I was going to go skipping  off to somewhere else, in my condition?" Even now, she laughed at the absurd memory, her eyes shining. 

"You are a very strange creature, Adonnenniel," he said warmly.  Her lips found his and kissed him once again. 

 _Not really. I prefer to think that I have a very refined sense of the ridiculous._ And with that, she recommenced running, egging him on to follow. He caught up to her easily, and the three of them returned to the Palace. She was amazed that she could run so very far, and not even be damp from perspiration. Her body was a constant source of pleasant surprises, lately. "Beren will need some manner of bowl for drinking water. And I've no idea what he is being fed."

Thranduil smiled. "Galion will bring a suitable vessel, and I will have him consult Anthilon regarding the food." Nenni froze in place, as the image of the dignified steward bearing her dog's dinner settled upon her. She flushed pink, at the thought of how he would feel. Thranduil laughed outright now. 

"Meleth, everything will be fine. Galion has complied with far more exotic requests than this, believe me." 

She opened her mouth to ask, but thought better of it. "Of course, my Lord," was all that came out. 

Her weapons were left at the practice room, and they returned up the stairs, admitting Beren. "Beren, this is home. No lifting leg in here."  He idled around the chamber, sniffing uninterestedly here and there. 

"How much time, Thranduil, until we have to be somewhere?" 

"Not long, meleth. Enough time to change clothing and take a little more food, if you feel the need. Please excuse me, while I change."

Mostly, she wanted water, to which she helped herself. As she relieved her thirst, Beren followed her every motion, licking his own lips. 

"Oh! I am sorry, Beren," Nenni grimaced. "May the kitchen forgive me." From the large pitcher, she filled one of their bowls used for elven food. He drank again and again, until he had enough; her sleeve prevented the worst of the slobber from getting everywhere. Beren jumped on the bed and flopped down with his head on one of the pillows, sighing deeply as he stretched out.  She timidly glanced at Thranduil, and felt heartened to see him smiling in amusement at the sight. There was still fear, that he would not like the dog. 

Recalling herself as she saw him regally dressed and wearing his diadem, she asked: "This is the trade council meeting?" Seeing his affirmative nod, she walked toward her wardrobe in the other chamber, to find something suitable. Unnoticed by her, he closed the distance to the door of this room. She opened the wardrobe and stepped back in awe. It was a fair sized piece of furniture, that had held her few things. Now, the rack inside could barely contain the garments present there. Baffled, her lips formed a perfect "O". Turning around, she saw him smiling in the doorway. 

"How kind you are to me, Thranduil....will you help me? I have no idea what to choose, and the time is short." Her arms embraced him, delighted that he would gift her so much fine clothing. He returned the affection, and she heard him in her mind. _Meleth, you are welcome, for the garments. Look at me, please._

Nenni raised her eyes to his _._

_You need not fear that I dislike Beren. I am not ignorant of the nature of dogs. Even if he lacked appeal, I would love him because you love him. He is a magnificent creature, and I promise you that I am committed to caring for him just as you do._

He could feel the silent gratitude in her heart, as she held him tightly. It was all the thanks he needed. She released him, taking his hand as he walked to the wardrobe. He chose a gown of emerald-colored crushed velvet, embroidered with both gold and silver ivy leaf patterning. It was designed to keep her a little warmer, and had long, elegant sleeves and an attractive open neckline. There were also leggings and slippers of matching color satin, to keep the chill away. He helped her into it. The ivy vines of her tattoos were plainly visible; matching the color of the gown.  He reached into his robe, and brought out a necklace, that he fastened on her. It was scrolled silver wire with ivy leaves, and a single clear teardrop crystal set in the center. This hung just below her collarbones. He set her circlet on her head as well, tucking it neatly into the weave of her hair. Taking her by the hand, he brought her to the mirror, standing behind her. "It pleases me to compliment your fine appearance, my King," she said softly. He wore a rich dark grey tunic and breeches, under a silk robe of a slightly lighter shade of grey. Patterns of trees were woven into the fabric, like the forest in the mists of springtime. 

Nenni thought the necklace especially lovely and thoughtful. "How do you know so well what I like the most, when I have not seen such things before?" 

He wrapped his arms around her. _Meleth, I can read your mind, if you recall_.

"Apparently." Remembering to bring some apples to the meeting, she hurried to the trees to fill a basket. And then it was time to leave. Seeing that Beren was already upside down, snoring, she rolled her eyes and took Thranduil's arm, as they left to attend to their duties. 

*****

The five Lords were present in the chamber on their arrival, rising in respect. A seat was placed for Nenni at the left hand of the King; she set down the flat basket of apples in the center of the table. Before sitting, the Lords bowed to Thranduil, and Nenni bowed her head deeply to him as well. Then all were seated. After the whirlwind of events that their last meeting initiated, she realized that she had not prepared well enough. Desperately, she tried to recall information about bushels and population statistics from her notes, then thought better of it. While she promised herself that next time she would endeavor to give these matters some mental time before arrival, it seemed unrealistic to chastise herself  for not being fully in the cadence of these kinds of duties. It was safe enough to say that she had endured rather a lot in the meantime, and might excuse herself a little. Attentively listening, and contributing what she might, seemed fair enough. 

The King commenced speaking: "When last we met, the queen demonstrated the nature of what she can accomplish. I had hoped that at this meeting, we might answer any lingering questions, discuss production and storage, begin to create a timetable of goals, and otherwise devise the beginnings of a framework  for the logistics involved.  I would first like to open the discussion for any questions about what you witnessed?" 

Lord Sadronniel spoke first. "My Lady, would you please explain to us in detail how you raise the grain crops from  seed to the finished product in the sacks? I would like to have a clearer picture of the workflow."

"Certainly. You saw how the sown seed is brought to maturity. I lay out long cloths at the edge of the harvest row. Using a scythe, I place the cut grain with the heads on the cloths. When the row is cut, I order the disintegration of the chaff and stalk into almost dust, leaving the seed behind. If I desire the straw for another purpose, such as thatch, I may alter this technique slightly. I then roll up the long cloth. The roll is held tightly on one side and poured out over the large flat baskets made for winnowing; the grain and dust falls into these baskets. I then remove them to an area that has something of a prevailing wind, which winnows the grain swiftly. The clean grain is poured off into sacks, and the process repeated."

Lord Sadronniel asked, "Could any part of this be done by others, thereby allowing you to spend less time at nonessential tasks?" 

Nenni thought. "I have been giving this issue much consideration. The simple answer is yes; I can send it out unwinnowed. I should add, I have only ever raised wheat and its genetic relations. Oats, barley, milo, and the like...I could master it but there would be some learning. I honestly do not know what is even grown here beyond wheat and oats. I have some experience with legumes and pulses."

"What if someone else were to scythe the grain?" 

She did not reply immediately. _My King, how do I answer this?_

Thranduil broke in. "Lord Sadronniel, there will be someone to do this task for the queen. There is one worker, and one worker only, who will be assigned to the garden. I cannot elaborate further, but you may be reassured that she will be able to work as quickly as possible.  I have determined that limited access will be allowed for the Storeroom workers to have use of the tunnel up to the garden door. It is here that all production headed outward will be delivered. Whatever is present at sundown each day may be removed to the storerooms, or left in the passage, if it is particularly susceptible to spoilage. Under no circumstances is anyone to ever enter that garden."

Nenni forced every blood vessel in her face to stay empty, and schooled her expression to blankness, hearing this. She knew full well the identity of the one worker, and there could be no argument or resistance. He had spoken, and she would have to accept this, difficult though it was for her.

Lord Falchon spoke next. "My Lady, at your earliest convenience, could you provide us with a list of food crops currently established in the garden?"

"It would be my pleasure. I can do this now, if there are writing materials." Thranduil retrieved these for her from a table in the corner of the room. She swiftly wrote it out  in her flowing script and passed it to Lord Falchon. A long series of assorted questions followed, some of a mundane nature, others far more complex. To each one, she gave her best answer. It pleased her, that there seemed to be genuine interest in and support for the overall concept.

Finally, there seemed to be no more questions for the time being.

"Have my Lords given consideration to what crops and what volumes are ultimately wanted?" Thranduil asked. 

Lord Penlor broke in. "I for one would like to request a given volume of the almonds, in order to explore establishing trade with them."

Nenni nodded. "Please forgive my ignorance. Are there insects present in this world, that are destructive to foodstuffs?" 

"No my Lady, there are not," said Lord Falchon.

"That helps a great deal, then. If lists could be submitted to me of what is desired, and the volumes or weights, I will do my best to match these requests to my capabilities", she said.

Lord Merial spoke now. "I am of the mind that we should favor the ingredients needed for lembas. It has virtue for both those who work and those who fight, stores nearly indefinitely, and is the most useful for ready eating in times of need. Do you all agree?"

"In principle yes," said Lord Penlor. But with a supply of items like the almonds, I will be able to leverage trade for greater supplies and varieties of seeds. Also, I cannot help but think that the queen's gift could be used for the increase of valuable medicinal herbs. Those are desirable far and wide, and not always easy to cultivate. Would that be possible, my Lady?" 

Faintly blushing at the thought of the oliphaunt athelas topiary, she schooled her expression to reply, "Absolutely it is possible, Lord Penlor. I only require a living sprig of any plant to establish any amount desired of...anything. If it is brought to me I will see it done. There is a tangent to your words regarding seeds, also. The garden can act as a sort of seed vault. I cannot think of a safer location in the realm; any plant there will not be able to be destroyed in the event of conflict. It would be wise to have at least one of a great many plants; anything rare or precious, or of use for food or medicine. Not all of the space is yet used, and it would be wise to safeguard the future."

This met with general agreement.

"My Lords, what is the population for which we are seeking to make preparation? All those who look to the King?" 

"It is the figure you named earlier, my Lady. We use the number of twenty five thousand elves, as the basis for our planning goals." 

Nenni nodded, pleased to have gotten that much right. "And for what minimum length of time are the stores needing to last? A year? Longer?" 

Lord Sadronniel spoke. "At the moment, we have reserves for that number of people for but one and a half lunar cycles, my Lady. A year would be a surpassing achievement."

She sat there working out the volume of wheat needed. "So in terms of wheat, forty four thousand bushels would be a target goal?" 

"Yes, Lady," said Lord Falchon.

"The sacks can be procured, or is there a different preferred storage method?" 

Thranduil spoke. "There is a great cave, which is capable of acting as a silo. We could choose to fill it." 

Nenni turned to him. "There is no risk of explosion, my King?" she asked. 

"I do not understand, Adonnenniel.", Thranduil said. "Please explain?" 

She felt her cheeks flush somewhat, unsure of herself. "My King. On Earth, there were what was known as grain dust explosions.  It happens when four factors combine: a concentration of dust particles from the grain being in the air,  a confined space,  air, and an ignition source, such as an open flame or static electricity. A violent explosion can occur. The destructive power is...formidable, more than enough to kill. It does not mean that the silo cannot be used,  it is only that precautions need to be taken. I only ask out of concern for the safety of those here, freely admitting my lack of knowledge of this world." She cast her eyes down, feeling foolish. Astronomy was not the same here, so perhaps chemistry had different rules too? This should have been brought up to the King privately. It would be better to remain quiet, when she understood so little here.  Raising her eyes to a blank spot on the wall opposite, she determined to use better judgement next time. She was also fairly certain that her first headache in Ennor was gaining steam.

Lord Falchon spoke, kindly. "It can happen here, my Lady. A mill beyond Dale was destroyed in such a manner, a great many years ago. The Edain working there were killed. I had no reason to recall it, until you spoke of this."

Her eyes widened imperceptibly, and she nodded her head very slightly. She turned her head to Lord Falchon, giving him the barest of smiles before returning to staring at the wall. Recalling for the hundredth time that everything going on in her head had likely been observed, she sighed to herself. _I know what you will say, my Lord. Please be patient with me._

Nenni did not look at the King, but rather tried to pull her focus back into the meeting. As near as she could tell, the 44,000 bushel goal was a cakewalk. That was less than one production cycle a day, over the span of four years. Or, one production cycle per day, skipping each third day. There was no real reason they could not double the amount, but she was not going to open her mouth on that subject until a harder look had been taken at time frames and what else they desired.  _If farming has taught me one thing, it was Do not promise what you cannot deliver_. She smiled to herself, too. There were certain farm jobs she frankly hated, and she was so odd about them. It did not help that harvesting was high on the list. But to be fair, everything here was pleasant and easy. There was never horrible weather, nor was two thirds of what she'd worked for destroyed by insects or pathogens, or water politics...on and on. The garden made what used to qualify as work ninety-five percent easier. The usual struggles were simply gone, replaced by the joy of results occurring as one might want to hope. It was hardly anything to whinge about. If she could succeed at what she did on Earth, she would sure as hell manage with all the advantages here.  There would be no excuses, by comparison. She smiled to herself. _There were never excuses, even back home._ No one cared, they just wanted their food. Forcing herself out of what was rapidly becoming  a daydream, she tried to think of what else needed discussing here. Without a request list she was unable to contribute much further. Was she supposed to keep the kitchens here partially supplied, did that help? No, wait, that was not a good question. Without understanding the nature of the supply chain here, it was backing the cart up to the horse. At some point she needed to be schooled on the flow of goods throughout the realm, preferably with plenty of blank parchment and wine somewhere nearby. And...why was no one talking?

She looked slowly around the table, and noted that everyone else seemed at a similar standstill, which she was not about to disturb. 

Thranduil spoke. "My Lords, it appears that we need to prepare lists of production requests for another meeting in three days, at this time. I wish to see a four year plan for meeting the production goal of not only wheat, but volumes of other goods desirable for trade or storage. Please come prepared with specifics. The goal is to provide the queen with information that can be used to create a realistic production schedule. If there are items you desire grown that are not on the list the queen provided, source them or send them to Galion. Live plant materials should be brought to Galion not long after sunrise if possible, to ensure they are installed swiftly. If there is no further item of discussion, this meeting is concluded." Everyone rose, bowing to the King. 

"Lord Sadronniel, may I have a private word with you?" the King asked. Seeing the others exit the chamber, Nenni made to follow them, to afford them privacy. "Adonnenniel, remain here please." She stood still, plastering what she hoped was a kind smile on her face. The pain in her head was gaining, but this sensation was one to which she was long accustomed.

When the others had left, the King spoke. "The queen requires an education on the movement of trade goods within the realm. If you would accept my invitation to dine with us tomorrow at the usual time for the evening meal, perhaps you could bring your maps, and this discussion could be conducted in a more pleasant setting for all of us? Your Lady is welcome as well, but I defer to you both as to whether the tedium of the practical matter at hand afterward would please her. No offense is taken, should she prefer to decline. She is also welcome to join us for the meal, and depart afterward. 

The tall and lean blond ellon replied, his angular yet handsome face smiling. "I would be honored, my King. I will ask my Lady and inform your Steward before this evening. Does my King require anything else of me?" 

"No, you are dismissed. Thank you." As Lord Sadronniel departed, Thranduil offered Nenni his arm. They walked back to their chamber, entering silently. Beren stretched a little, on the bed. Nenni went to him and stroked his head, hearing the familiar extra heavy breaths that amounted to "Go Away." Rolling her eyes, she left him alone, trying to gather her thoughts. He turned completely belly up, his lips hanging down to expose his perfect white fangs. _Just like home_ , she thought. Bending down had caused her head to throb worse. She wondered, did they have.... _oh._ Turning to Thranduil, she opened her mouth to speak.

"Come here, meleth", he said, holding his arms open to her. He held the sides of her head gently, removing the pain immediately. Suddenly she also felt relaxed, soothed, not having realized how much tension had built up within her at the meeting. Small wonder her head hurt. In the future she must remain more aware of this, and try not to tighten up so much. 

Nenni wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you, Thranduil, very much. When is the next obligation?"

"In about two hours." 

"Do you mind if I eat something and lie down for awhile? Would you wake me in time?" His long fingers found her throat, gently pulling her chin up.  

"Is something else the matter, Adonnenniel?" 

Her eyes met his. "I do not believe so, it is only that I feel...somewhat drained. This is not unusual for me. A little sleep would help." He saw that she was not trying to hide anything from him, but still it seemed odd. She had never been this tired, without reason. Gently she squeezed his hands, and went to eat. Except he saw that 'eating' amounted to a single slice of fruit. She removed only her circlet, and lay down near Beren. Tugging a light blanket over her, she curled up on her side and was instantly asleep. Even more suspicious, he went to her, laying his hand on her, searching her mind and body more carefully. All he could find was a significant mental fatigue. 

He recalled what she had said about being in groups of people, and realized that scheduling two meetings in one day for her, so soon,  might have been unwise. And this second one would mean an entirely different set of new elves, though she would know Legolas and Tauriel. He debated going alone, and allowing her to sleep through it, but that would be unfair to her. At the very least, he needed to monitor her more carefully, and would try to keep it brief. When she woke he would have her take some miruvor. It would help, and he would not make this mistake again. He should have realized how new this still was for her, and he was going to have to recall that he still outmatched her in the strengths he had, at least when it came to duties. It would take him time to understand and adjust as well; for two ages, he only had to consider himself.

Rising, he recalled to notify Galion about the dinner with Lord and perhaps Lady Sadronniel tomorrow evening, and to procure food and a suitable water bowl for the dog. He saw Beren begin to twitch and bark softly in his dog dreams. Indeed, his life had changed, and he wished for no other. He poured himself wine, and sat down to consider the orc incursions further.

The King's reflections were interrupted by a sudden rush of images from his wife. He looked over to realize she was dreaming. Her arm was now draped over the still sleeping dog. It was a memory, of somewhere at night, in wintertime. There were forest trees around her, and snow covered the ground on a wide road. Something was wrong, but she was not in danger. Beren was with her, on a lead, attached to a body harness. The moon shone overhead, and she ran, using the strength of the dog to help her move forward down the road.  She was winded but she kept on, she needed to reach a destination. At last the path turned, to a large wooden house with brightly lit windows in the distance. 

Abruptly she woke, confused, and felt Beren near her. For long minutes, he watched her try to recall where she was, not opening her eyes. At last she remembered. She wished to return to sleep; but then recalled her obligations. He saw that she felt a great desire not to disappoint him, as she raised herself up.

  _If only she understood, how proud I am of her already._ He knew that he must leave her some space in her thoughts. _How much she has acceded to me._ No obligation save the one she placed on herself required that she permit him such freedom to look on over every corner of her mind. He sighed. A day would come, not so far distant, when the right thing to do would be to fully return the favor. He had nothing to hide from her, it was only that to consider doing such felt so... _.vulnerable_. 

He rose, taking the miruvor, and walked to her. "Drink this, meleth. It will help." She moved herself to sit at the side of the bed, still trying to shake off sleep as she drank it slowly. He rubbed her back gently, as she did so. Taking the empty flask from her, he held her for some moments, as the liquid did its work. She wrapped her arms around his ribs, feeling much better now. _Thank you for your care of me, as always._

"Meleth, you should take the opportunity to eat more", he said quietly. 

 Disengaging from him, she nodded and rose.  "As you wish, husband." He noted her peculiar smile, and saw that this was a reference that meant more than the actual words. This was another way to say, "I love you." Filling a small plate with bread, meats, cheeses and fruits, she seated herself. 

Thranduil heard a noise behind him. Beren had not moved, but now his eyes were open and his nose was sniffing, sampling the air. He slowly rose, stretched, and walked to Nenni. She looked at him, shaking her head No. Sighing, the dog laid down, his eyes glancing upward every so often. At the end, she saved him a bit of bread and meat, and offered it to him. Quickly she stepped back, as copious amounts of slobber dripped from the dog's jaws. Rolling her eyes, Nenni found a cloth to wipe up the mess. She kissed him on the nose, whereupon he jumped back on the bed to lay down and watch them. The King realized that this was a long standing ritual between them. Retrieving her circlet, Nenni found water to drink until such a time as they needed to depart. Her list of traps and devices was buried into the pockets of her gown, in the event it was needed.

Soon it was time to go. Nenni took his hand. "Thranduil, I do not  know if I can ask this, in practicality. I am sure you see that these meetings have the potential to be a mental strain for me. It is more to do with my ignorance of this world than...meetings. I do not realize when my muscles are tightening and my tension is building, and then I make myself unwell and tired. If you see this happening to me, it would not go amiss to remind me to try to relax. Right now too much is new. If it is impractical to do so, I understand. I will manage." 

"Adonnenniel," he began, lifting her into his arms, "it would please me to help you. I did not wish to cause you to feel awkward, by offering. You have my patience, my support, and my love. I know how hard you are trying, and you should know how proud I am of you, and how much I appreciate your efforts. I am here for you, meleth; I am yours as you are mine. Do not place yourself under strain for no reason. You have only friends, here."

Nenni grew quiet. She appreciated his words, more than her modesty would let her admit. Not having the words with which to reply, she kissed him softly. For a moment, she rested her head in the hollow of his neck, before he let her back down. He kissed the top of her head, and offered him her arm. Beren jumped off the bed, looking expectantly at her. Nenni looked at him, then looked at the King. 

"Beren, you may come with your mistress. Do as you are asked, and listen. We will be speaking of killing the orcs." His tail wagged very fast, as he sat down. They all left the chamber, Beren trailing just behind Nenni. The chamber for military councils was larger and more elaborate than the other she'd seen. There was a much larger table, more seats, maps on the wall and rolls of assorted parchment on a sideboard, She was pleased to see that pots of ivy grew at the borders of the chamber, softening the appearance of a room which must be dedicated to fighting and warfare,  There was what appeared to be a slateboard, and chalk. Were there yet more of these rooms, for such specific purposes?   _There are not_ , she heard, which caused her to smile. Here, too, all rose to honor the King. 

Legolas, quickly realizing that a place had not been provided for Nenni, indicated that she should take his own seat next to the King, while he chose another. Nenni once again bowed her head deeply to Thranduil, with the rest of those present, before taking her seat. At the nearest opportunity, she caught Legolas' eye to give him a subtle nod of thanks for his courtesy. It had spared her awkwardness that she did not need, today especially. Beren sat at her side, looking alertly at those present. His head was well above the height of the table, and she reassured herself by placing her hand at his neck.

Very quickly, the King spoke. "You all know that we are here to discuss the escalating incursions of the orc packs into our realm. However, not all of you have been formally introduced to my queen. Generals Faelyn and Nevarth; Commanders Othion, Tethir, Saevel, and Tauriel; this is Adonnenniel Edlothiad. At her side is her hunting hound, Beren. I deem it unnecessary to introduce the Prince," he said with humor, earning warm smiles and a few chuckles in response.

Nenni inclined her head to each, meeting their eyes; adding in a heartfelt but subtle smile for Tauriel. She noted that everyone, save the King and herself, was armed. He began to speak.

"It is my wish that we gain efficiency at locating and terminating these packs. Is everyone present aware that our last encounter with a full two dozen orcs was not  two minutes' run from the entrance to the forest path? It is entirely unacceptable that they should penetrate the realm so close to the palace, unnoticed and unchallenged. Is there further orc activity to report from the patrols?"

"There is not, my Lord", said General Faelyn. "I have personally checked with every returning patrol since you killed the last pack." 

 _Follow_ _my lead, Adonnenniel. It_ _is necessary that t_ hey _know._

"I did not kill the orcs, General Faelyn. The queen did. I have taken my queen into the woods on three occasions now, and two of those were marked by an orc encounter. We must be able to do better."

General Faelyn looked incredulous. "Forgive me, my Lord, but I was informed that you were alone in the woods that day. I mean no disrespect, but I do not understand how your Lady could possibly kill an entire pack, unaided."

"You may have an explanation, General Faelyn. But it is my absolute command that the information not leave this room. Adonnenniel, if you would?"

Nenni rose from her chair, inclining her head to the King, to step away from the table. _You must tell Beren not to react to what I am about to do, please._  She spoke softly to those in the room. "I ask your forgiveness, for this. I will take all of you prisoner except the King; you will not be harmed." Every one of them, except Legolas, had smirks of disbelief on their faces, and she could not hold it against them. In the blink of an eye, the ivy in the pots boiled through the room, ensnaring their legs, binding them to their seats. She saw some of them struggle, but to no avail. A short second later, their own weapons were drawn against them, weaving disturbingly as the vines held them up. None of them smirked any longer; the smiles were exchanged for looks of shock and surprise.

"I have been given a gift," she explained quietly, "that I desire to use for growing food, and flowers. But as you can see, it has other uses." As she continued, she began to undo her work, freeing them and returning their blades carefully to the table. "Any form of living vegetation is under my command. There are limits to how much energy I can expend doing this at any one time. I was with the King, in the woods, and had hidden myself. I did not need to be in view, to take orcs captive and kill them." She returned to her seat, not feeling particularly good about the incredulous stares now directed at her.

Thranduil resumed speaking. "I have reason to believe that the orc packs come here on account of the queen, to harm or abduct her on account of her gifts. Darkness is gathering in the outside world, and war will come. We must prepare ourselves to stand against it. The first order of business is to greatly tighten our security. I assume by now that word circulated to you of the arrangement with the magpies.  In conjunction with their information, we need a way in which to entrap and kill these vermin long before they can enter the heart of our realm, with the greatest safety possible to our warriors. I await your suggestions."

The conversation went on for some time, with discussion of patrol frequency, routes, the ongoing threat of the spiders, and other points of strategy.  Nobody seemed to think in terms of creating kill zones, but she was sure there must be a reason. She had too little information altogether on this subject; from knowing little of orc behavior to having not ever even seen the length of the road. From what she had seen, they were impulsive and not terribly bright. When she knew more, perhaps she would then have something to contribute to the discussion. It was more enjoyable, to listen to the seasoned fighters talk amongst themselves. This began to give her some idea of how the defense of the realm was conducted. Eventually, they seemed to settle on a different pattern and timetable for patrols in the realm; one that would require far more activity on the part of the warriors. Nenni felt badly, in a way, the extra work that she was somehow probably causing. Yet there was nothing else to be done. Danger to her was danger to every elf in the realm, just the same. The meeting appeared to be within reach of concluding, when Thranduil rose, and began to slowly pace around the room. "There is something which has not been considered here, which comes from the queen. She does not wish to presume that she has anything to contribute, but I feel her concept has enough merit to be raised here, before we disperse. Adonnenniel, will you please relate to them what you have shared with me, regarding your world?"

"As you wish, my King." She held her head confidently, returning the gazes of the others. "The place from which I came saw more than ten thousand years of the evolution of civilization and warfare; each developed alongside the other. Great warlords of the edain existed over time, and their tactics and battle plans were recorded and passed down to later generations. A fascinating thread of military history was specific to warfare conducted in forests. Great armies were brought to ruin, solely on the advantages a forest could provide for those defending such terrain. No general would willingly conduct an offensive maneuver in a forest, except at greatest need, and this occurred only in later years when armaments had become deadly, far beyond those used here. Defenders, however, had myriad assets at their disposal for the destruction of enemy forces with lessened risk to themselves. I have seen none of the forest defensive tactics of my world used here. Instead, full reliance is placed on the exceptional physical and mental skills of your warriors, to track, hunt and engage in standard combat. I humbly submit that perhaps, some of what was done on my world could aid you here. Specifically, the construction and utilization of tunnels, traps, and earthworks  by which to ambush and destroy intruders to the realm. With some days in which to prepare, I could provide very specific suggestions for the consideration of those present."  While talking, she had unwittingly contracted every muscle in her body. Her head began to ache again, and she felt...vulnerable. Behind her, she felt the King's  hand rest briefly on her neck and shoulder. "Thank you, Adonnenniel." It was a pretense to touch her; for the moment he did, her discomfort vanished and her muscles eased. She reminded herself to breathe, and maintained her poise. 

General Nevarth spoke. "It would be wise to evaluate any possible advantage, I think." Low murmurs of assent followed his words. Turning to Nenni, he said, "my Lady, we would be pleased to consider such information. Do you require any assistance to prepare?" Nenni inclined her head in thanks. "Only the aid of my King, and some lengths of line, approximately six to eight ells each in length." 

"Then the matter is settled," said Thranduil. "Is there any further discussion, for now?" 

Soft echoes of "No, my Lord" were said. All rose, bowed to the King, and began to depart. Legolas lingered behind, as the King offered his arm to his queen. 

"Adar, Nenni. May I ask exactly what your preparation entails?" 

Nenni answered. "I need to be taken to ride the forest river, the elf path, and the forest road, Legolas. I  defer to you both for which of those are the most likely paths traveled by these orcs to approach the Halls. I must see the terrain for myself. I will be looking for areas where there are natural features that can be modified to form clearings from which escape is impossible. I can grow trees or vegetation to narrow the road or create enclosures where there were none before. My desire is to have multiple areas along the roads where an ambush of a decent sized pack can occur, with none escaping to alert their fellows. An area to which orcs can be herded can have pre-existing traps set ahead of their arrival in the area; I might wish to do this as well. I fear permanent traps are not a good idea, as they do not discriminate as to who they kill or injure. This is why I need the King's assistance. Even were my Lord to permit it, it would hardly be wise for me to do this alone."

Beren at that moment slipped his head under her free hand, bending her elbow. Looking down at him, her thoughts froze. She had long memorized his physical features, and he was not this tall. _Not remotely this tall._ His proportions were unchanged, but now that she was paying full attention, he had most unquestionably grown. Significantly. Bending to kiss him, she hid the expression of fear that tore across her face. She composed her features carefully, before rising again. 

Thranduil suggested, "Why do the four of us not ride out, the day after tomorrow? I would like nothing better. A double patrol will accompany us at a some minutes' distance, to err on the side of caution. This will assuredly require more than one outing. Do your duties permit this, Legolas?"

"Yes, Adar, of course." 

"Then we shall meet at the stables an hour after sunrise. Until then, we take our leave."

As they left the council room, Thranduil took the direction toward the Great Gates. "We will walk  from the Gates around to the stables out of doors, so that Beren may have an opportunity to relieve himself before we return to our chambers." They walked on in silence out to the path under the trees, Nenni's eyes now riveted on Beren, as he walked under her hand. How could she not have noticed sooner, that he was now approaching the size of a Great Dane? And why?  She had received many blessings here, but knew in the depths of her heart that one devastating loss was yet in store for her. As she tried to push this thought far away, a vision on the path in front of her filled her waking eyes. An Lord and Lady, of great majesty, stood before her. They were very tall, clad in the fairest raiment. Light shone all around them. The Lord wore the trappings of a hunter; his Lady was bedecked in a fine gown adorned with precious blossoms of purest gold. She dropped to her knees before them, and felt Thranduil do the same. Tears filled her eyes, to see their beauty and radiance. She heard Thranduil utter, "My Lord Oromë, my Lady Vána."

Oromë spoke in a deep, resonant voice. "Hail, Thranduil Oropherion, and Adonnenniel Edlothiad. You have endured much, and it is the will of our Father Eru that we each bestow upon you a gift. Little Thranduil, through the consent in your wife's heart, I accord to you the living echo of Huan, in the form of the blessings I have laid on this hound. He will serve you, and defend your realm against what is to come." 

Next Vána spoke: "Adonnenniel, I bear also to you both the words and gifts of Námo and Vairë. We  have watched your sufferings, and your fears. My gift to you is that for all of your days, Thranduil and Beren will walk at your side. No permanent hurt can to befall them. Therefore, cast aside the fears of loss that darken your heart. Námo has decreed that  having been torn from your rightful place with him once, that you are barred from the passage through his Halls. Vairë will weave your life, and that of your husband, in her eternal tapestry, until the end of time itself. Having been cruelly sundered once, unlawfully, you will never again be parted." 

Nenni replied, tears continuing to stream down her face, as she raised her hands in supplication to them. "I have not words, for the depths of my gratitude. I humbly beg your continued guidance and wisdom, to make the fullest possible use of what you have granted us, to the good of all and to your service." 

Thranduil also wept openly. "I thank the Valar for your gifts and your undeserved kindness to me. I, too, entreat your wisdom. It will be my life's work, to use what I have been given in service to others."

The Vala smiled. Oromë reached out, to place his hand on Beren's head, as Vána cast blossoms at her feet. In a shimmering fog, the vision faded, but the golden flowers remained on the forest floor. 

Adonnenniel turned to her husband and clung to him, shaking with joy, relief, and the weight of great responsibility. "I do not understand," Nenni said at last, "how we are deserving of such as this, Thranduil. I was already blessed, beyond reason. We both were."

"Neither do I, wife," he said, his voice trembling. "We can only endeavor to use what we are given, to honor and serve them. And to protect and aid those to whom we owe our duty, and beyond, to show our gratitude." Beren came, and sat next to where they kneeled. Raising his head, he filled the forest with his booming cries. 

They rose up, at long last. Nenni saw the flowers, and carefully gathered them in her skirts. "Please Thranduil," she said, "I would place these in the garden, if I can. I will cherish them, forever." They made their way  back to their chambers, walking slowly and silently, her hand on his arm. Each was lost in deep thought. _Forever_ was no longer merely a word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wondering what Beren looks like? Here he is in a nice quiet mood....http://sta.sh/0o6dmqhvm1q 
> 
> The names of the Valar in this chapter are given in Quenya, as written in the Ainulindalë. This will leave them familiar to those who have read the Silmarillion--not to mention, much more melodious in sound. Thranduil and Nenni would have used their Sindarin names, though. Araw or Araum for Oromë, Banwen for Vána. It becomes a little stranger then, because with Badhor for Námo (the name means 'Judge'), and ...there is not even a close substitute for Vairë...'Nathron' is Weaver, but as with Badhor, these are far more the Sindarin words for those occupations than names. Regrettably, Tolkien did not leave us with a vast vocabulary for what the elves would have spoken in the third age of Ennor. We do what we can :-)


	9. Occlumency

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited, version 2.0 [Rhiw 4, Imladris. November 27, Gregorian]

Nenni did not stop but proceeded through the passages to the heart of the bower. Carefully, her hands moved the soil and placed each precious blossom, rooting them. Each one did so, leaping up in unsurpassed beauty. Trembling and crying, her appreciation for these sacred blossoms of Aman growing before her was boundless. While it was impossible to be certain, she believed that her mighty gift with all growing things was the blessing from Yavanna. In this well of power the last blossom grew up, with the familiar magic thrumming beneath her.  Kneeling on the bed of moss and rose petals, she  cried out to Vána, "Lady, I thank you", prostrated, with her arms outstretched. Overcome, she fell into a sound sleep where she lay. 

When his wife did not return after a time, Thranduil came looking for her, finding her amidst the drifts of golden blooms she had set into place.  Beren had returned to a contented slumber, on their bed.

He reached down to touch her, uncertain if she was unwell or not; this awakened her. Finding his hand within her own, she rose up as he seated himself at the edge of the platform. Thranduil placed his arm around her shoulders, drawing her to him.

"It is difficult to believe," she said to him softly. "The two greatest burdens that lay on my heart are now gone, forever. "  Nenni stood, and knelt before him, her hands still holding his as she raised her eyes.

"Thranduil, you told me some time ago that one day you would ask me to rule at your side. I replied to you that I had reservations I would share with you later. My impediment was that I could not, in good conscience, take an oath pledging my duty and obligation to those here. For I knew that if the worst was to happen, that were I to lose you in the strife to come, that I would leave here and seek you wherever you would be. I cannot endure being parted from you. I still do not feel ready for this responsibility, but for other reasons. When the time of your choosing arrives, I pledge to follow you. I will take my oath to share the responsibilities of your duty to this realm, and to serve those under your care. My hindrance is removed."

Having said this, she resumed her seat, leaning into him. She raised her lips to his, and  he kissed her deeply and chastely.

"Meleth," he said. "I had planned for us to practice at arms now, but I would understand if the events of the day have been too overwhelming. I will not fault you for wishing to simply rest, or converse."

"Thank you for your consideration, but there is no need." A silence ensued.  "I had  expected that when the time came for any real fighting here, that I would remain in the Palace, agonizing for long days over your welfare. I  would not have asked your permission to be at your side, because I felt my strongest obligation was to remain alive, for your sake. There is nothing on this world that would cause me to risk that you would lose me a second time. While my role in such future events is still yours to decide, I would elect to train as hard as I can. I wish to fight. If my efforts can spare one ellon or elleth death, injury, grief or sorrow, I would work to that end. I harbor no rosy illusions about war or battle. But how can I ask another of our people to suffer the fate from which I have been granted exemption, simply for my ease or comfort?"

Thranduil looked at her with astonishment. He had not expected to hear this; had not understood, that such thoughts lay at the foundation of her outlook. 

"I see that you and Tauriel have more in common than the color of your hair," he said. "You have a courageous heart, Adonnenniel."

"Not on account of this" she said. "When the outcome is certain, there is no courage involved. It is courage, when one faces the possibility of the worst result, and moves forward regardless. Courage is what you have shown for thousands of years, as you endured and defended this realm. I have much to learn, my King, and I require an instructor." Standing, she held out her hand to him.

He helped her out of her gown, so she could change. Now in her practical clothes, she buckled her corset. Waiting for him, she refreshed herself with water and a small amount of fruit. Soon enough, he emerged, extending his hand to her. They arrived at the practice room. 

"Before we commence with blades, I had a thought concerning the bow, Adonnenniel. I ask you to draw it as Tauriel instructed you, hold the string for a count of ten, and return it to its original position." As Nenni reached for the weapon to comply, Thranduil added, "Ten times, and then you may pause." Her eyes widened and she swallowed. This would be very painful. To prepare, she focused on her stance, posture, and the alignment of her arm bones. She drew to an imaginary target, feeling the familiar burn increase in intensity as she held the string for the count of ten. The first draw was not difficult, the second was a slight challenge. By the seventh, her shoulder burned with pain; she summoned all her stubbornness to carry her through. At the ninth, she could no longer to hold steady; her muscles were shaking under the strain. At the tenth, she blinked back tears as her muscles burned with fiery pain. Over and over she repeated in her mind, _he has a reason_ , as her left arm was governed by the tight string more than the other way around. Lowering the bow, she stood quietly, waiting.  His arm came around her collarbones, steadying her. He placed his free hand over her left shoulder girdle, healing the burning pain. Afterward, he did the same for the strained muscles of her right arm.   
"Do you feel any discomfort now, Adonnenniel?" he asked. She moved her arms a little, and could detect nothing. "No discomfort, thanks to you."

"Do the same again," he said. "Ten times." This sequence was only slightly less hard on her than the first one. Every effort was made to relax and focus on the best technique, but she was again quivering  with pain by the end. Still she stood quietly, refusing to complain, or to expect relief. After half a minute, he told her, "Now, five times." It would have been so easy to beg off, but instead she drew her mind into the place she'd gone when enduring her trial for him. That the hurt would go on without ceasing, and she simply could not relent. Conscious awareness of the motions of her arms faded, and counting had ceased; her sole focus was to keep on doing as she must, through the pain. When her sixth draw began, she heard his command for her to stop. Her bow lowered, but her mind had not yet returned. His arm encircled her again, and a second time he healed the hurts. He walked to face her, raising her eyes to his, forcing her to engage with him mentally. She returned his gaze, unflinchingly. 

"The same, again. Five times," he ordered. 

Nenni obeyed him, and lowered her bow. 

"How do your shoulders feel, on your scale of one to ten?" 

She considered. "Perhaps a three, or a four?" 

"Ten times."  Hardening herself, she did as he asked. There was still hurt at the end, yet not so bad as before. "You may replace your bow on the table," he said.  He pulled her into his embrace, and the pain vanished. He kissed the top of her head. "You did well, Adonnenniel."

He stepped back and drew his swords, handing her one. She took it from him, and again waited.

"Begin warming up." 

She commenced her drills, grateful to feel no effect at all from the bow. Working to bring her focus to her footwork and the flow of her motions into each other, she moved around the room for many minutes, her blade arcing around her body. 

"Stop," he commanded. "I will now attack you. Defend yourself." 

Raising her blade, she quickly adopted a defensive stance. He was right handed, as was she, so she slid her steps left and backward, trying to force him to leave her an opening as he bore down on her, always turning to his right. She carefully stayed outside the arc of his blade, quickly circling outside of and behind his reach. When he at last appeared as though he would lunge further than usual to reach her, she rotated her blade to try to cut his forearm, just as swiftly backing out of reach and darting a cut at his thigh as she retreated. He turned on her with terrible speed, rushing at her to set her off balance. Pretending to back away at first, she kept her blade up, transferring it to her left hand as she dropped down to wrap her elbow around his ankle, heaving with all her strength in the direction opposite his momentum. Nenni released him just as quickly, trying to get her feet back under her to slide back as he stumbled onto his left knee. She was off balance and her blade was lowered, while he brought his own around in a wide arc. The tip of his sword cut deeply into her right bicep. A thrust at his unprotected left arm failed; he pulled away in time. 

Uncertain what to do, she backed away swiftly. Returning the blade to her right hand revealed pain and weakness; she would have to continue left-handed. Facing defeat, no ideas were coming to her. Forgetting the uneven terrain in the room for a moment, she stumbled as her foot caught on a stone, throwing her backwards. Her head hit with an audible crack on the rocky flooring. The pain sent involuntary tears flowing from her eyes. He was almost on her. With one last desperate lurch to the right, she tried to roll away from him while bringing the point of her blade up, but she was no match for him now. His foot pinned her sword arm down, and his weapon was at her throat. 

"I concede," she said softly. "If I move, I am going to be sick." Nausea welled up in her, as her head continued to throb. "Please, help me?" she asked. 

"You will get no such assistance from an orc," he told her. 

"Which is why," she said, feeling a twinge of hurt feelings, "we are going to discuss the debacle of my nonexistent defensive strategy in the face of your rapid attack. However, unless you wish me to spend the time here vomiting and bleeding on your practice floor, I suggest you aid me. Your choice entirely, my King." Her voice was level, and did not reveal her muted sense of betrayal. If he would not help her, she needed to turn to her side, and quickly, before she choked on what she was about to throw up. A gasp escaped her lips, as the pounding in her head tripled from her movement. It was like having an instant migraine, and a very bad one at that. Finally, his hands held her head, and the symptoms vanished. Struggling to rise, she found that he held her down. 

"Wait," he said. He pushed up the sleeve of her garment, to find the deep cut. Which was now throbbing mightily. That was the good thing about very sharp blades; there was usually a delay between the actual cut and when the pain set in. He held his hand over the injury, and the flesh and skin knitted back together. 

"Thank you," she said to him without expression. "May I rise now?" He held out his hand to her, and she took it as he pulled her up. Somehow, she had never let go of the sword in her left hand, which she now held away from him. "May I speak freely, Thranduil?"

"You may."

"Then I wish to ask, is the point of today's training to instruct me how to defend against a larger and more skilled opponent, to wear me down with injury and lack of emotional support to test my limits, or some combination of the two I cannot grasp? I will tell you now, I feel intimidated. I cannot try to severely injure you. The gifts given us today aside, it is not in me to give my best effort to harming you. I must have something with which to spar that cannot kill you. I felt very lost in this round; I had no idea what to do and I was quickly overwhelmed. Would you please explain how I might do better?"

"No, I will not. Are you prepared to try again?" 

Nenni looked at him with incredulity. Everything in her intuition told her that he was testing some facet of her, and that she would have to tolerate this comparatively harsh treatment until he was satisfied. Inside of herself, she shrugged. It was his prerogative; he was the master here. And either he was testing her in a no-win scenario, or she was overlooking something within herself that he wanted her to find, unaided by him. Either way, she hoped she had four limbs remaining, by the end of this session. "Yes my King, I am."

 _This reminds me of Harry Potter's Occlumency lessons with Severus Snape. Those ended disastrously_ , she thought sarcastically. Suddenly, she saw a possibility.  _Or had they?_

"Prepare yourself," he said. She dropped into a defensive stance. He came at her swiftly, like before. Her mind a blank, she backed toward the same stones on which she'd just tripped and fell. But this time, she kept an awareness of her footing, backing up onto the rocks that gave her an extra two and a half feet of elevation, compared to his position on the level floor. Timing him as he closed the distance, she guessed that he would likely lunge or slice at her. Prepared for him, her feet braced on the slope of the rocks behind her. At exactly the right moment, just before she came within his range, she vaulted forward. With two hands on the hilt of the sword, she  used it to propel her body upward into a twist. Thranduil's swinging blade met only the air of where she used to be. As she rotated and dropped through the air to land behind him, her left hand grabbed his hair, pulling down and backward with all her might and the momentum of her fall. She yanked him off his feet, swiftly placing the flat of the blade against his throat as she crouched, warily keeping an eye on his sword arm. "Yield. If you move yourself or that sword arm, I will cut it." He did not move, nor did he yield. Her ire was rising. "Yield," she said, "or I will cut you anyway. I will not lose my advantage, while you wait for a moment of weakness on my part." Unbelievably, she saw his blade begin to raise very slowly. With lightning speed, she skewered him between the bones of his forearm, transferring the hilt to her left hand. With the rest of her momentum, she landed her feet on his right wrist with all her weight, forcing him to release his grasp on his blade. Scooping it up, she held it to his throat. There would be no giving in to anger, there would be no further demands, and they could sit here for the next week in this position while his sword rusted to his bones, if he so desired. She had had just about enough of this unfathomable behavior. 

"I yield," he said softly. 

"Instruct me how you will get up. The sword should not be removed from the injury until you are ready to heal it."

"I will do that without rising. Count to three and then remove the blade." 

She did as he asked, wiping it clean on her already bloodstained tunic sleeve. Taking both swords, she walked them to the table that held the other weapons and placed them down. Standing with her back to him, she tried to process what possible reason he could have for forcing her to harm him. That she'd actually done so made her feel vaguely ill.  A part of her very much wanted to  begin boiling with anger at being put through this; but she equally trusted him, and did not believe he simply wished to be cruel. He had to have a reason, though she could not see it. Her shoulders sagged. He'd told her she would not thank him; but she could not have guessed at this.  

"We are done here, for today," he said. Retrieving his blades, he opened the door, offering her his arm. 

She took it, but did not look at him. They returned to their chamber in silence. Pausing, she asked, "am I free for a time, my Lord?"

"Yes." 

Off her clothes came, and she headed straight for the bottom of the pool. Desiring neither to think or feel, only the silence in the water mattered. Nenni could not reconcile how a day marked by such joy could give way to his seemingly bizarre and distant behavior. 

Under the water, she dwelled in memories of dreams. Joyous ones, in which she could breathe the water, and swim without needing to surface for air. _Perhaps if I take a really decent breath and concentrate on slowing my heart, I could get extra time out of it? Or, I could just float on my back and fall asleep like this._ These ponderings were interrupted when he entered the pool also, and sat. She sighed. Whatever her annoyance, she should go to him. "Would you hold me?" she asked. He opened his arms, and her legs folded onto his lap. Ordinarily she would have apologized for skewering him, or begun the conversation to ask him what had happened in that room. Yet a strong feeling came, that he would tell her in his own time. So she wrapped her arms around his ribs, closed her eyes, and listened to the steady beat of his heart until sleep came.

As he soaked in the warm water, with his wife slumbering in his arms, he tried to disentangle the jumble of his usually ordered thoughts. He'd done the same to Legolas, long years ago when he taught his son the use of weapons. On more than one occasion, he'd brought the elfling to tears of rage, and he'd expected to do the same to her today. That she never once flinched, backed down, tried to beg off, or wavered from what he asked of her....that was the thing for which he was unprepared. He knew how badly she'd been hurt; she'd fractured her skull on the rock, and he'd seen her pain. It had been his intention to injure her even further the second time. In battle, no quarter was ever given, and it was critical that a bottomless resolve accompany any fighter. One flinch in that resolve meant certain death. Thranduil had found it indispensable to break the spirit of each fighter in training, so that they could experience this vulnerability in a setting that would not cost them their lives. What he had failed to register, until far too late into this session, was that she had already passed through a trial beyond anything he could ever hope to devise. The last thing he could throw at her was to test whether she would actually carry out her threat of harm against him. He knew that she wished to feel hurt and angry by his treatment, and that she had not yielded even to this desire. 

Hearing that she wished to fight had appalled him, on some level. He did not associate her gentle nature with the violence of battle. And yet had she not just earned that future right, by passing the same tests which had overthrown others?  It would be no more fair to deny her than to deny Tauriel. He sighed. Fortunately, there were years ahead in which he could reconcile himself to this eventuality. In the meantime, he owed her an explanation, and a change in his teaching methods. There would be no more object lessons or use of severe pain to try to undermine her. Chuckling to himself, he thought on how she had brought him down. It was unexpected and clever, and she should never have been able to manage it.  

His firm kiss on her forehead woke her. Her hand found his arm, as she gently wrapped her fingers around it. Clearing her head, she opened her eyes. Her fingers explored his arm where it was pierced, and could feel nothing. Raising her head to look, she could not even see a scar. Nenni did not know how to feel about this, and was not entirely sure how she had even done it. It ran against everything she felt she owed to him.  His fingers turned her head, so that her lips could meet his. He kissed her deeply, and opened his mind to her as he did so. She saw his reasoning, which told her that she had not been far off in her surmises. He already had her full acceptance, whether he had shared this with her or not.

_I did not truly mind, Thranduil. Except, that it felt like distance between us. That caused me more discomfort than any of the rest._

_I know, meleth,_ he thought. _It will not happen again; you have earned freedom from any further tests of this nature. There are not words for how proud I am of your resolve. It will take time, but you will become a formidable opponent. You already are. No one has ever before defeated me, Adonnenniel. We will sharpen ourselves against each other, and do what we can to spare many lives._

She did not romanticize his words, but they were accepted, without pride or joy. Nothing about war and killing were to be celebrated. But to save others, she would spare no effort. The same as with  her husband.

Having had a long enough soak, they both dried themselves and dressed. Nenni looked at her cut and bloodstained clothes. "Thranduil, are there sewing tools, by which I might repair these? I can take them to the garden, to soak in the cool water, before these stain."

He laughed. "No, meleth. You must recall that you are a queen. Those who attend to our garments will care for them. Trust me, they have seen worse. They will be expertly mended and you will not know they had been damaged."

"What do you mean, those who attend to our garments? I see no one coming here," she frowned. 

"Meleth, whenever we leave our chambers, Galion knows. It is his duty to...monitor us, if you will. Staff are sent to check and care for fabrics, clothing, and such is cared for at times that will not disturb our privacy." 

"I...did not know. I never thought to question how these things were accomplished. Now I feel selfish and rude, for not noticing. Surely these individuals deserve thanks, for such kind and surpassing service?"

"You may do as you wish, Adonnenniel. While it is not necessary, you have shown me how such kindnesses are appreciated by others."

He poured them both wine, handing her a goblet. They sat next to each other, facing the balcony doors to watch the receding daylight. He placed his arm around her. "Adonnenniel, who are Harry Potter and Severus Snape?" Nenni painfully snorted wine through her nose, laughing. This had to be the most surreal moment since her arrival in Ennor.

"They are characters in a series of fantasy stories of Earth. The premise was that witches and wizards, edain gifted with the power to use magic, lived among the non-magical ordinary edain of earth. I liked these stories very much, as they took place in a world as rich and complex as....as this one. For all I know, those stories are real as well, happening in some other place and time. Harry Potter was a young wizard, and Severus Snape was a teacher of the magical arts at the school Harry attended."

"Then what are Occlumency lessons, and why did thinking about them give you an advantage by which to fight against me?" 

"Ah, now I understand the question. In the stories, Severus was tasked with teaching Harry a difficult magical skill. Occlumency was the branch of learning that would keep one's mind from being breached by another with the skill to read it. Severus hated Harry, and Harry hated Severus. Severus 'taught' him by giving him no real direction on what to do, and attacking him repeatedly and forcefully. Harry could not hope to succeed. So he invented his own solution to the unpleasantness, which was to preemptively attack his teacher in a way that was aggressive and unexpected. Under that inspiration, I took the chance that you did not know I could vault, to take the offensive against you, before you could cut me down again. What I am to do against you, once I have run out of small tricks, I do not know. You must realize, you are a terrifying opponent." 

"I will teach you, meleth. In plain words, and with less suffering on your part. I have been giving some thought to the weapons. It would perhaps be better to switch to swords that have blunted tips and dull edges. We should also both wear more armor when sparring; we would not enter a battle attired as we were today. I will remedy these deficiencies very soon, I promise you."

"Thranduil," she said very softly, "will you continue to....require me....to injure you, as you did today? It is a...violation...of my love for you.  The memory of it is uneasy, for me."

He filled her mind with his reassurance, and love. _No meleth, I will not ever press you to do this again. I have seen that you will be unyielding, no matter the cost. There is nothing further to be gained. Forgive me, that I asked this of you._

"I hold nothing against you. I only do not know what it would do to my spirit, were I to accustom myself to trying to harm you. There is no wish, on my part, to find out."

It was now dark, and the stars shone overhead. Nenni stood up.  Thranduil was lighting a fire against the evening chill. "Would you walk with me to the garden, Thranduil? There is something I wish to see." Beren rose and stretched, issuing one of his cavernous yawns. Clearly, _he_ wished to visit the garden. Strolling with their wine, they came out of the passageway.  "Not on the food plants, please, Beren" she admonished. The dog issued some sassing response, and lumbered off toward the shade trees.

Nenni led Thranduil to the bower, where she saw her hopes were realized. The golden flowers of Vána shone with their own light, glowing softly in the darkness. Thranduil, who had not expected this, stood in awe. They had their own honeyed perfume, though it was delicate. "If I am permitted, Thranduil, the day will come when I will spread these blessed flowers throughout your forest, to light the paths at night. But for now, here they must remain. How unrivaled they are, in beauty and grace," Nenni said, "just like the Lady from whom they came."

Their eyes met. Reaching up to brush aside a strand of his hair, the words passed easily from her lips. "I desire you greatly, husband. Would you have me, here?" 

Their lips met in a searing kiss, as he lifted her to their bed of moss and rose petals. Two goblets of unfinished wine  waited on the stone bench. Eager hands disrobed the other, as the passion of their kisses rose. This was not destined to be one of their more leisurely sessions at lovemaking. In the time it took them to remove clothing, they both felt senseless with need. He felt her desire, that he dominate her; and right now, he wanted the same. He held her arms to her side with his own, as he locked his hands  on her shoulders. He could raise himself up, or not, and she could go nowhere. Reaching down, he sucked hungrily on her breasts in turn, as he pushed inside of her deeply. She raised her hips to meet him, and he used his knees to force her legs open wider. He would not be denied the deepest parts of her. Her chest flushed in the golden glow of the flowers, enticing him to further vigor. As their pleasure rose, his thrusts became a frenzy of motion. Just before she reached her peak, he kissed her deeply, fully covering her with his body as he strained into the deepest parts of her womanhood. Her climax broke around him like a vise, causing him to groan with pleasure as her contractions massaged the length of him. When she had almost subsided, he took her breast in his mouth again, resuming his thrusts. Out of nowhere, her desire peaked again, bringing her a second release. Never had this happened to her, and she cried out in delight. As the waves of pleasure took her again, his heated seed filled her, which increased her enjoyment yet more. When every last twinge of bliss had passed she was left trembling beneath him, her heart full of love and contentment. He released her arms at last, which allowed her to pull him down on top of her. Nenni relished the contours of his body, the weight of him, the sensation of his body still joined to her own. At last they separated. Beren sat, watching them intently. He lumbered over to her and pushed his cold nose into her vulva, sniffing and taking a lick. She laughed, having experienced this many times. Her private areas had somehow always been a storybook of curiosity to her dog. "The King will have to meet with your approval, Beren. He brings me great joy. Thank you for allowing us our passion, without interruption," she commented dryly.  Beren wagged, and some sort of noise issued from him as he sauntered off. 

Nenni bundled her clothes into her arms, to carry back to their chambers. It would be necessary to wash again, before dressing. Thranduil had already clothed himself. He looked at her, quizzically. She laughed. "Your seed flows in abundance, husband. It gives me great pleasure in our lovemaking, but not so much when it runs onto my clothing." 

He laughed softly. "Vigorous spring," he said, his eyes twinkling. As they walked back, Beren joined them.

"Did you ask Beren to remain quiet?" she asked Thranduil. 

"No, why?"

"He shows you great deference. When we lived on Earth, he raised unholy noise if a man and I had intimate relations. Husbands, lovers, it did not matter. He barked and howled. One time, I believe he nipped at a partner's testicles. I found this extremely amusing, on some level. He would bark at me, if he smelled semen on me. I never understood completely what he was thinking, but assumed it was some kind of possessiveness."

Thranduil thought. "It may be more simple than that. Ours is the only union that should ever have existed for you; your fae to mine. He does not resist your connection to me, because he can perceive that this is as it should be." She digested this entirely new thought all the way back, through a rinse in the water, and beyond.

He rang for dinner, and returned, with the pitcher to refill their goblets.  They moved to chairs near the fireplace. "I wish to hear more of this Harry Potter. There are many such stories from your world?" 

"Yes. Imagination of that which is not real is...important to edain. It allows a way for the mind to explore many things, and gives much pleasure. Real life is a struggle for most, and these tales are a refuge for those who enjoy them. I spent a great deal of time immersed in such pursuits. You wish me to tell you the stories in the Harry Potter books?" she asked, surprised. 

"Yes, I do."

"Then I will do my best to be a good storyteller. I cannot recall the writings word for word, but I will try." Cuddling up to him, and breathing deeply to clear her mind, she told of the baby left at Number Four, Privet Drive. By the time Galion returned with dinner, the Dursleys were departing for the rocky island where Hagrid would find them. The tale stopped, so that they might eat.

"Does it please you, so far?"

"Very much," he answered. "The hardest part will be forcing myself to stay out of your head, so that I do not look ahead to find out what occurs." 

Nenni laughed heartily.  Explaining this to anyone here would be difficult, but to find herself telling the great Elvenking about Harry Potter... _what more could anyone want?_

The meal was delicious, and after such a long day without having had too much to eat, her food was devoured with relish. Galion had brought Beren a large bowl of meat scraps, with some cooked vegetables tucked in. Beren had devoured his bowlful, before Thranduil could serve Nenni her food. He belched loudly, and left to lie near the fire.

"What does tomorrow hold for us, Thranduil?"  To an extent, she wished there was a day planner around here. Day planner. What day was it, anyway? All grasp of time and calendar days had been lost; a small child would know more than she did. True, she had a surface understanding of whatever her husband did, but it wasn't the same. It must be getting on toward...was it November? Early December even? Suddenly, her heart sank as she went deep into her memories. She looked at Thranduil to say, "Please excuse me for a moment," with her best smile as she rose from her seat. 

Beren followed her departure to the garden. Running through the passage, she went to the almonds and collapsed at the base of a tree, sobbing. Her mind had been overcome with the memory of  her best friend on Earth. Almost as long as they'd been alive, they had shared this time of year with each other, at the Thanksgiving holiday. Her best friend was a man. They had never been lovers, only the strongest of friends. They could and did  tell each other everything, and arguably he had been the most intimate human relationship of her life. Their relationship had outlasted marriages, relationships, family, jobs, living arrangements, and every other change life on her old world had to offer. And right now, for all that she had been given, she wept bitterly at the knowledge that she would never see him again. There would never be another Thanksgiving dinner. _I never even said goodbye, and by now he must believe I am dead._ Beren came to her, and she clung to him, her tears wetting his fur as she wailed out her grief and asked forgiveness to the night air, for her weakness. The fear of insulting the mighty gifts of the Valar did not erase her sense of loss. As her tears spent themselves at last, the bright starlight overhead shone down, and perhaps carried Varda's soothing grace along with it. "Farewell, beloved friend" she said. "May some small part of the happiness granted to me pass to you, for we shall never meet again." At the last of these words, Beren licked the salt tears from her face, while she stroked his ears.

Thranduil had followed her, and for the first time in their lives together, did not know what to do. He had not known of any of this. It tore at his heart, to see yet another facet of her losses. Nearly every blessing given him had come at great cost to her. Which meant, he must offer her what solace he could. He found her quiet, and trying to gather the wherewithal to return to the table. He gathered her into his arms. "I am sorry, Thranduil. I do not mean to be ungrateful, when I have been given so much." 

He did not answer, but shamelessly used his powers to take the grief from her mind, and provide his reassurance and love, as he carried her back inside with Beren trailing behind. He placed her back at their table, and knelt before her. "Meleth, I am sorry for what you have lost. You were fortunate to have each other. Trust that the Valar will watch over him, as they do you." She nodded, knowing in her heart that she must release this. Their destiny would cause her to have many such losses. Partings would be an unavoidable consequence of what she'd been granted. This was no different. 

"Thank you, for your understanding and your aid. Even now, it is so easy for my mind to take one wrong path into a difficult memory. I am yet learning, and I accept your wisdom. There was a time when I could not accept...dying. I must learn that living, when much else dies and transforms around me, is now my challenge. I do not say this to complain. The Valar have granted  every wish of my heart. I will bend to their will, and carry on, as do you. Not all sorrow is evil."

Looking at her plate, she resumed eating; it would not do to waste the food. Eat it she did, though a rather larger than usual volume of wine went down with it.  A pleasant numbness had come over her with the cleaning of her plate, which she fully embraced at the moment.

"Adonnenniel, I do not know if this is a good time, but I had a small surprise for you. Do not feel obligated to partake in it, if  your heart does not wish it." 

While she was not drunk, she was feeling no pain, and her curiosity got the better of her. "What is it?" she asked, smiling. 

Thranduil reached over to the last covered dish, and brought it near her plate. He lifted the lid, and there was.....a cupcake. Her mouth formed a perfect "O" of astonishment. Looking at him, she saw his broad smile. Deft strokes of a knife quartered it and she popped the piece into her mouth. The flavors and textures rolled around, and what began as a smile faded into an expression of general disbelief. It seemed that the elves indeed could not do anything halfway. The cake had a flavor that could only be described as berry, with floral hints. It wasn't just one flavor, was the problem. Each movement of the food over her tongue seemed to bring out new notes. And the frosting was like an ordinary buttercream, but with scents of honey and...flowers, though she could not say what flowers. Kings on earth would never have had a confection of this quality. Clearly, the kitchen staff needed more apples. "Will you have some?" she asked. "This is amazing. Better than cupcakes from Earth."

He nodded, and she gave him a full half, leaving the last quarter for herself, which she started in on with relish. Looking up, she noticed some struggle on his part. "Too sweet?" 

"Too....rich, is more like it", he said. "It is appealing, but one bite goes a long way, meleth." 

Nenni laughed, thinking to herself that she could disappear half a dozen of these without blinking an eye. When he finished and rose up from the table, she did the same, stopping him to take his hands. "That has to have been one of the sweetest and most loving gestures anyone has ever made for me, Thranduil. I cannot thank you enough, for having gone to the trouble to procure this. But do not bring them too often, or you will be living with a plump wife on a sugar rush. I have no self-control with sweets, and will eat them as a staple food if given the chance." Raising up to kiss his cheek, it crossed her mind that she needed toe shoes, for this. After she filled her goblet with water and joined him near the fire, a realization came. "I asked you earlier what was in store for tomorrow, then ran out of the room. I am sorry for my rudeness. Was there an answer?"

"Yes, meleth. The only official duty is our invitation for Lord and Lady Sadronniel to dine with us in the evening.  We will need to dress in fine clothing, for this. There are also audiences, for an hour. You may choose whether to be present or not. The rest of the day is technically free, but, there is weapons practice for you, which must include both time with Tauriel and myself. We should run in the forest, also. And somewhere in there, during daylight, you will teach me to harvest wheat with you. It is time we began learning what we may accomplish, together." Nenni was silent. It was a genuine struggle for her, to imagine the King doing the tasks of a common laborer. She lowered her eyes. 

 _Perhaps you are not looking at this properly, at all,_ the Little Voice said. _You find simple joy in these jobs; pride at mastery of skills that were arcane in your world. How do you know that he will not find the same interest in these things that you do? Do not be so quick to assume that everyone else cannot enjoy the same work as you. You made this mistake many times, on earth. So shut up, trust him, and do as he asks._ Nenni hated it when the Little Voice made sense.

"Of course, my Lord," she answered. Thranduil smiled. He was becoming accustomed to these schizophrenic dialogues that would take place in her head, and found them endearing. "If I may ask...what am I to say to Tauriel, when she comes to instruct me? She is no fool, and will realize inside of five minutes that my skills are not what she would find in a raw beginner. May I tell her the full truth of what lies between us? Her, most of all, I do not wish to deceive."

"You may, Adonnenniel. If we cannot entrust such information to my generals, commanders, and my closest councillors, then I have chosen badly."

"What are 'audiences'?" she asked. 

He looked chagrined. "They are something concerning which I have been extremely derelict, since your return into my life. Essentially, I sit on my throne, and am petitioned to grant favors, material goods, solutions to problems, judgements. It is not by appointment. Formerly, I would hold audiences at least three times a week. There has not been an audience in....a long while." 

"I see. We would have called this 'office hours' on Earth," she said with a smile. "If I attend, I presume I stand somewhere, looking ornamental, and listen?" 

"That sums it up nicely. Though, we may still speak with our minds, if circumstances permit. I would enjoy the company. I find them tedious, honestly." 

She laughed at him. "Very well. I would consider it my solemn duty, not to abandon you to tedium. And, I wish to know something else. You have never forbidden it, but I feel I must ask. Am I permitted to leave the Palace on my own? I would not have asked to do this before today, but given what we were gifted..."

Thranduil thought about this, carefully. "My answer is yes, and no. You may leave the Palace to remain within sight of the walls, if Beren is with you, and you are armed and wearing protective armor. If you cannot meet these conditions, I insist you be escorted by myself or armed guards. To travel further, I must insist you have at a minimum myself, Legolas, or a full patrol, and Beren. Do not forget, meleth, that the enemy does not only kill. They can capture, as well. For all your gifts, I would be derelict in my duty to protect you, if I were to fail to account for this." 

Nenni swallowed, not having seriously considered such a possibility. "Yes, my Lord. I will comply. Thank you."

For a long while, she stared into the fire, watching the flames glow. Breaking out of her reverie, she looked up at her husband. "In what manner would it please you to spend the evening, Thranduil?"

"I would like to walk under the stars with you, meleth, if you are willing." 

"Of course. You wish me to wear my armor and arm myself?" 

He hesitated. "Yes. I must abide by my own rules." 

She donned her protections, and after asking which path he meant to take, ran to the practice room for her sword and daggers. It took some moments to fiddle them into functionality with her heavy cloak, but it was managed in the end. They left with Beren through the Great Gates, and walked into the starry night outside. He turned onto the Elf Path, that crossed the Enchanted River. Silently they walked on for some distance. Distance was hard to measure with no known references, but she guessed they had walked more than a mile.   

Nenni had not see this part of the forest before. For lack of better words, she liked the feel of it less than the place near the Forest River, though she was uncertain why. Her hand held his arm securely, and Beren walked on at her side. She liked his new size. Previously she'd had to dip down a little bit to touch the top of his head when they walked. Now, his neck came easily under her hand. The hound was alert; soft snuffles betrayed that he was often sampling the air. 

_Thranduil, she asked, when you communicate with Beren, are you in his mind, the same as you are in mine?_

_Yes, meleth. Though he can understand our speech, he does not communicate in Sindarin. Images and impressions are in his mind, not so much words._

_I envy you, sometimes. Though, maybe I would not want to look into his mind. There are things I regret doing to him, long ago, that I cannot take back. The bad part about taking advice when one is inexperienced is, it is not always easy to know when the advice was bad._

_Meleth, if you wish to see into his mind, you only need tell me. I will not withhold my gifts from you. Keep your hand upon his body._ In an instant, her perceptions shifted. She was actually inside of Beren's senses. The forest was suddenly alive with scents, and she had no reference for any of it...but the complexity was as staggering as she had always thought it might be. 

 _Beren? The King is allowing me to speak to you this way. I wanted to tell you that I love you, very much._ What returned to her from him were feelings of contentment and relaxation. He turned his head to lick her arm, also. Suddenly she felt him stiffen, and the barest growl issued from him. _What is it, buddy?_ Images of Orcs came into her mind. _Keep silent_ , she warned. _Are they near, or still far away? Many, or few?_

 _What do we do, Thranduil?_  She heard him ask  Beren to find out how many, without being seen, and return to them. They would remain hidden in the shadows of the trees just off the path. Both raised the hoods of their cloaks. 

Thranduil led her into the shadows, placing his left arm around her. _Draw your sword silently, meleth, and extend it behind you so that your clothing obscures it._  They waited for a time, and Beren returned. Approaching the King, he shared that there were more than a dozen, and that they were moving away from the Elf Path, to the south. 

_We will return now. That they are making straight for a known spider nest  causes me to feel suspicion. I wish to let the guards know what was observed here, as quickly as possible. You may sheathe your sword. Thank you, Beren._

They walked on, hand in hand. After a time she heard Thranduil once again. _Soon will be the solstice, Adonnenniel. The Realm will celebrate Turuhalmë, the Yule night. Does the thought of gatherings still trouble you?_

_No, it does not. You have healed me of such problems. And you transferred your knowledge of dancing to me. Though, now that I think of it, I suppose that means that I know how to dance in the role of the ellon. Perhaps that will still need some...practice._

_Then, there is no time like the present._ He turned and reached his arms out to her. Some of the steps were ones she recalled from Earth; one in particular a was the same as a waltz. Her body tensed involuntarily, but she was determined to try. _Adonnenniel. Relax your body, and follow my mind. Let me assist you. Try not to think, only remain open to me._

Nenni gave her level best to do as he asked, and in very short order she was gliding down the Elf Path in box steps, moving in accord with his lead. It was exhilarating, and joyous. He increased the pace, showing her when he would add in twirls and lifts. The speed of the movement, the graceful patterns, the feel of the contact between them...chagrined washed over her, that she ever could have feared this. It was the most enjoyable thing, ever, next to their lovemaking.

_Do not berate yourself, Adonnenniel. You could not help the ways in which your mind betrayed you. That is in the past, now. It pleases me to see your exhilaration, for dance is another joy we often shared, before we were parted._

When he was certain she had mastered the step, he resumed their walk, so she might catch her breath. She held tightly to his arm, feeling very happy. Arriving at the gates, the King spoke to the guards of what had just transpired. One guard left immediately, to report to his Captain, and then Thranduil  escorted her to their chambers. It was still not really very late. On Earth, it would have been a time she'd make tea or hot chocolate, sit near the fire, and read. She remembered, then, the day that she'd been interviewed by the scholars. There had been books, in that room. Perhaps she could excuse herself, and find her way back there to look?

"Adonnenniel, come with me" he said, holding out his hand to her. They left through the rear passage, turning down tunnels and corridors not yet explored. They halted in front of a large, ornate door, which he opened for her. When he ushered her inside, a cavernous library greeted her sight. She could only blink in disbelief, as she took in the tall ladders that climbed very high toward the roof, the carven columns, and the array of...everything. There were thousands of bound books, oversized folios, scrolls, stacks of documents. 

_Is it permitted to speak in here?_

"Yes," he said, "but we speak softly." 

"How is it organized?"

Thranduil began to escort her around the collection, indicating to her annals, histories, music, verse, instructional material, and more. "Is there a place where something might be written about grain production or milling?" 

He walked her to an area and helped her sift through the titles. "He is one that seems to tell of edain practices for this," he said. 

Nenni also found one that seemed to have designs for mill construction and other processing. Taking note of where she was, she replaced the volumes. "It cannot be permitted to remove materials from this room, I would think?"

"Ordinarily, no," he replied. "But being King has its privileges. If you wish to, you may." 

"I thank you, but I would feel better coming here to read. This is not like a library of Earth. I cannot risk harm to anything here; all of it is irreplaceable. Unless you possess books you own privately, I will be content to spend time here when I may, and not in our chambers. Part of me wishes to chastise you for not bringing me here sooner", she smiled, "but I am not certain I ever asked."

He looked at her sheepishly. "You did, actually. But I wished to save it for another time."

"You are incorrigible. I suppose you feared I would abandon you, to spend my time among dusty volumes?"

"The thought crossed my mind," he said. "I have not forgotten needing to order you away from hiding in your room and writing for three weeks." 

Nenni flushed red. That  event  seemed like a lifetime ago, and yet it had only been a few months. "I yield," she said, embarrassed. "Let us return." 

She removed her cloak and armor, as Thranduil stirred the fire back to life, eventually settling back into the chair with some wine. What she'd had earlier had long worn off, so another half goblet seemed in order. While she stared into the flames, he left the room for a time. Returning, he placed a modest stack of bound volumes on the small table between their chairs. "These are my own books, Adonnenniel. You may enjoy them anytime you wish."

The smallest one lay on top. Setting her goblet down carefully on the floor near her feet, she reached for it. He noticed that she handled he little book as though each page was made of glass. It was something made for children, she guessed. There were many color drawings, all made by hand. Some were of the Valar, others of flowers, animals; the illustrations were beautiful. This had been a labor of love, on the part of one or many persons. She carefully replaced it on the stack, and retrieved her goblet. 

"It does not please you?" he asked. 

Nenni looked up at him. "It pleases me very much, Thranduil;  it is remarkable. On my world, I would not even have been allowed to hold such an item with my bare hands. Only a few times in my life have I seen books such as this with my own eyes, unique and fully handmade. It is only that I am beginning to tire a little. I will enjoy looking more, when trust myself to give it the care it deserves." 

"It was for Legolas, when he was little. We had to teach him not to chew on it." He picked up the book, showing her the small tooth marks at the bottom.

She almost snorted her wine again. "Oh, my," was all she could manage, turning pale at even the thought of a child gnawing on the precious thing. 

"If reading does not interest you at this time, would you tell me more of the Harry Potter story, Adonnenniel?" 

"Of course." Looking at him longingly, she tentatively asked _rub my feet?_

Thranduil moved his seat so that her outstretched legs were in his lap. For a very long time she continued her story, under his extremely pleasant ministrations, until they both happily went to bed. He held her securely in his arms, as they both drifted to sleep.


	10. Audiences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited, version 2.0 [Rhiw 5, Imladris. November 28, Gregorian]
> 
> Thranduil's song is written by Tolkien, and is titled "Elven Merry Song".

Nenni woke first. They had not moved, in the night, and he was still holding her to his body. _The first day of eternity together_ , she thought, thanking the Valar again for their blessings even as this new reality slowly sank in. Reaching up to embrace his arms, some careful wiggling nudged her further into the scent and warmth of his powerful body. She closed her eyes, not returning to sleep but still resting. A time later, he swell and throbbed against the cleft of her bottom. Men's bodies has always fascinated her; because so little of her own anatomy did or could behave the same way. _Are you awake, beloved?_  she inquired, very quietly. He stirred, hugging her lightly by way of an answer. _Ease yourself, take me_ she sent to him. 

Gently bending forward away from him, she adjusted herself to slip him inside of her, backing her hips into his. She then held still, so that he might do as he pleased; everything or nothing. He pulled her chest back against his own, and remained immobile. The only detraction from her idea was that ignoring the heartbeat rhythm of him inside of her was not so simple. Still, she determined to let the morning take its course, relaxing and snuggling against him. It genuinely intrigued her, to follow the evolution of what his manhood was doing.  As the minutes passed, he seemed to swell and harden more, which made the pulsing more noticeable. Her eyebrow raised when she felt the twitching commence. Lovers in the past had been able to move their erections somewhat, so suspicion arose that he was no longer truly drowsy. Two could play this game. For every twitch he made, she responded by squeezing her pelvic  muscles around him. Every other part of her was passive and relaxed. This tit for tat went on for many minutes, until it was taking substantial effort on her part to match him. With a groan, he began to thrust into her, having been teased beyond his limit. Giggling in victory, she still continued to pleasure him in this way. Having focused on everything but her own desire, Nenni knew that she would not climax with him, and she did not care; this had been very enjoyable. He pulled out of her suddenly, diving beneath the covers. Pushing her thighs apart, he began to lap at her entrance, moving his tongue up to surround her center. Using the softest touches, and influencing her with his own arousal, he quickly had her in a much different frame of mind. He returned to his place behind her and resumed his original activity.  Now she wanted him to drive into her harder, and he obliged. Unable to hold off any longer, she floundered in those special few seconds of ecstasy between the peak of passion and the onset of orgasm. In that moment he opened his mind to her, and allowed her to fully perceive his own release as she experienced her own. It was nothing that she could have imagined. Her sensation was in the core her body, whereas much of his was out in front of him, in his length. It was powerful, yet so different.

 _How beautiful, she thought, the ways in which we are the same and yet different._ She kissed the skin of his arm, not being enough of a contortionist to reach much of anything else, and stretched with contentment. He released his hold on her, and she slithered to the edge of the bed. In a mad dash, she raced for a towel, before gravity could create a sticky mess between her legs. Turning, she saw him watching her with amusement. "Occupational hazard", she quipped, wiping herself somewhat clean. "Tea?" He nodded, still curled in the blankets. He looked innocent, and endearing. Beren slept on, having stretched himself out so that his hind legs were shoved up against Thranduil's back. Nenni forced herself to go for the tea, else she would be lost to what formerly was called Cute Overload.

His steaming cup waited for him at the edge of the pool. Skewering her hair into a top knot she entered the water, searching for something to occupy her thoughts. Singing random smatterings of Mozart led to practicing trills in chromatic scales. It had taken  long years to learn that ornament, and how it felt vibrating inside of her head was always a point of enjoyment.

"How do you do that?" she heard him ask. His voice caused her to rejoin reality; she hadn't even heard him enter the water.

"The trill, you mean?" He nodded. She frowned. "I am using my abdomen to push enough air past my vocal cords. The resonance is directed into the sinus bones of my face, and by relaxing all other muscles in my throat and jaw and intending it to happen, my larynx vibrates in a way that produces the trill. And if that made any sense, I will be astonished. Explaining singing is like explaining mental illness."

He laughed. "I understand, and I also do not. But I can follow your mind, and I perceive the things you mention." 

"I have never heard you sing, Thranduil. Your speaking voice is so very pleasing." He smiled, leaning in to kiss her head. She sipped her tea and once again almost choked as she heard his melody:

_Sing all ye joyful, now sing all together! The wind's in the tree-top, the wind's in the heather; The stars are in blossom, the moon is in flower, And bright are the windows of Night in her tower._

He sang in the rounded baritone that she guessed he would have. His voice was surpassingly beautiful; rich, resonant, and with perfect phonation and breath control. She'd heard graduated singers who could not match his elegant diction and pure tones; he arguably had far more raw ability than she did. And his was a big voice, too, enhanced more by his clean and simple use of it.

He stopped, and she looked up at him. "Is there more to this song?" she asked, trying not to sound as hopeful as she actually was.

_Dance all ye joyful, now dance all together! Soft is the grass, and let foot be like feather! The river is silver, the shadows are fleeting;  Merry is May-time, and merry our meeting.  Sing we now softly, and dreams let us weave him! Wind him is slumber and there let us leave him! The wanderer sleepeth. Now soft be his pillow! Lullaby! Lullaby! Alder and Willow! Sigh no more Pine, till the wind of the morn! Fall Moon! Dark be the land! Hush! Hush! Oak, Ash and Thorn! Hushed be all water, till dawn is at hand!_

Hearing such as this was a great privilege, for her whose heart responded to music like nothing else. Every note was absorbed as though he might never offer this again; every second committed to memory. When he finished, she raised her eyes again to him. _I know you perceive the fulness of what I feel and think. Thank you, so much._

"You are welcome, meleth. I did not understand how much this would mean to you."

"It would mean a great deal to anyone, Thranduil. Your speaking voice is vested with great power to move others; to action, fear, or obedience. Your singing voice has that and more; with it you can bind hearts to you in admiration, love, and shared joy." She kissed him. 

He looked at her a little sheepishly. "Meleth, I cannot deceive you. I did not know how to sing with any particular ability. But just as the weapons skills have transferred to you...."

"Oh, my. Well, I am pleased, because I would never tire of hearing you. I know no songs of this world, maybe when the opportunity arises you would teach me," she said, beaming. "And...It is time for me to find some food." Drying herself, she noted a problem. "My King, I cannot dress without knowing what comes first today?"

"Audiences. This will keep us from having quite so many changes of clothing." 

"Then I will wait. I would feel more confident with your assistance in choosing a garment." Wearing nothing but her towel, she searched out breakfast options at the sideboard. For whatever reasons, eggs and toasted bread sounded delicious this morning, and none were among the offerings here. Hm. "Thranduil, would breakfasting in the Great Hall be compatible with your audiences?" 

"Yes, meleth, is that what you wish to do?" 

"Please."

He left the water and swiftly dried himself. In turns they cared for each other's hair, and he then went to her wardrobe. He chose a gown of wine red velvet with matching boots, and a copper colored robe to be worn over the top of it. To her delight this had a split skirt, allowing her to walk more normally. She thanked him for this particular feature. However enjoyable it was to wear beautiful things, they never felt home-like unless they were also functional. Pretty as this dress was, she could run in it if she wished. The robe was the first one she'd had on that was not Thranduil's. It was warm, luxurious, and very attractive. After she added the circlet she checked her appearance in the mirror; pleased enough, with what she saw. The King joined her shortly, wearing the white peacock motif robe she'd given him. Underneath were silvery gray breeches, boots, and a tunic, which added a striking effect. _He is dazzling..._ but then again, she thought that of him when he wore nothing at all. 

Nenni ate heartily of eggs, cheese and toast in the Great Hall, including cooked greens for good measure. Smirking to herself, she noted the fine table settings that were now a routine part of her life. How often had she eaten in an armchair, her plate balanced in her lap, with dirty hands because she was too tired and hungry to behave like a civilized person? The answer being, more often than she could count...she deserved none of this. 

Soon enough, the three of them made their way to Thranduil's Hall. Beren would sit under her hand as she stood on the platform beneath Thranduil's feet, at the base of the stairs that led to his actual throne. The King escorted her there on his arm, and she curtsied deeply to him before taking her place, immobile, with Beren next to her. It felt much to her like being on stage, dressed in all her finery, waiting to perform. Except this time, there was no stress. To herself, she grinned. This was People Watching, Elven Style. Outwardly, her face was a pleasant mask that bore no emotion, but inwardly she thought she might enjoy this considerably.

Those who approached him  did not seem to have unreasonable requests, to her thinking. There was a high degree of formality to the exchanges, with all those present speaking and behaving with great deference to the King. And then the last ones approached. An ellon and his daughter had come from one of the outlying settlements, though she did not know this until the man spoke. The moment Nenni laid eyes on him, a chill settled over her and she had to work hard to maintain her neutral visage. There was a broken ugliness that emanated from him, and it was difficult to be near it.

He pulled at his daughter roughly; her arms were bruised, where the skin was not hidden by clothing. He was petitioning the King to require her to join in marriage to someone of his choosing. She had already made several attempts to run away, and he had dragged her here hoping Thranduil might imprison her until she would obey him. Fear filled the elleth's eyes, but Nenni perceived too a burning rage underneath. This daughter of the forest wished only for her freedom, and a peaceful life of her own choosing. Her stomach turned. Could such a thing even occur here? Was taking away this kind of a personal freedom something that could lawfully happen? She heard Thranduil ask him questions about the proposed match, and Nenni did not believe the ellon's answers. Every fiber of her being said that the full truth was not being told, whatsoever. The elleth made eye contact with her, with an expression that could only be seen as a plea for help. Nenni was so very close to speaking up, as Thranduil was asking the elleth nothing, but she held her tongue. Averting her eyes and keeping her face neutral was becoming an titanic internal battle. She wanted to leave, so as not to hear the outcome. Great anger was bubbing very close to the surface, and she held onto Beren tightly as she turned in on herself.  When under enough strain, she could dive into her own mind, no longer hearing the words around her, or seeing what her eyes looked on. She thought only of her posture, and her breathing, and forced her mind into the void.

However much later, his voice registered in her mind, _you must come back, Adonnenniel_ and her hand was lifted to his arm. He led her away, and only when she was certain they were out of his Halls did she permit herself to begin reengaging with her own senses. She was outwardly calm enough, now, but still held some sense of agitation from what she'd seen and heard. Back in her chambers, she concluded that this topic was an excellent candidate for her own 24 hour rule. If there were still strong feelings after a day had elapsed, she would speak with Thranduil about it. If tomorrow she found it did not matter so much, it would be dismissed. _And yet_ , as her shoulders dropped, _what was the point of this mental narrative when all of it was already known to him?_ Nenni forced herself to turn around and meet his eyes, which were already upon her. Walking to him, she grasped his finely shaped hands in a gesture of supplication. "Help me, please?"

This experience had impressed him perhaps more than anything he'd yet seen from her. He had followed every bit of it; and had been prepared to command her not to interfere, had she spoken.  Yet she had done what was necessary to control herself, in deference to him. More than that, she had maintained an awareness that he might have wisdom or information on this matter that she lacked, and did not yield to impulsiveness or the emotions he knew pulled at her very strongly. Rather than remain sullen or agitated now, she had self-corrected and was now looking to him for understanding. He could think of several instances in his own past, in which he had not done nearly so well. 

He folded her into his arms, bringing her into his mind. It was revealed that these two had a long and strange history of frankly bizarre behavior. They'd been deeply affected by the loss of  the ellon's wife and the elleth's mother. They unfortunately had a reputation for not being fully truthful. That displeased him greatly, as it was nearly impossible to deceive him; even without his mental gifts he still had a strong ability to sense lies. And that no, forced marriages did not occur. They could not occur, really, if she'd stopped to think it through; the bond was too significant and the connection too private. Marriage was undertaken freely, or not at all. Though, as on earth, families might attempt to sway the choices of their offspring. _I did not make a decision, Adonnenniel. I ordered them lodged separately, here, for three days. By which time I must find something to say._ _But beyond this, I wish to praise you for the choices you made today. You did not give in to your impulses or your anger, out there or in here. You reserved judgement, against the possibility that you were not fully informed. Would that I could have done as well on many occasions. I am proud of you. Do not think I forget, wife, that you not only labor under having to learn many new things, but that you cope daily with being wed to a King. The demands on you are far beyond that of an ordinary marriage, and you have risen to this challenge with grace and a willing heart. I could not be a more fortunate ellon, or King, to have you. Because you have earned it, I will leave the judgement of their case to you. You may use the time to speak with them, if you wish._

Nenni was not prepared to hear this. Compliments were something she craved yet found hard to believe, all at the same time. But that she had pleased him, that much was good. 

_It was all good, meleth, though you may struggle to hear it._

"May I consult with you yet, regarding the responsibility you have given me?" she asked. 

"Always, meleth."

"Good. That will give me something else to focus on, for a short time." 

"What do you mean, something else?" he asked, puzzled. 

"Well," she smirked, casually draining her goblet of water, "If you think I will not be devoting some time to pondering your repayment for requiring me to beg on my knees for relief yesterday morning, you would be incorrect."


	11. Training

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The more I researched authentic longsword fighting techniques and then what has come to be called "dual wielding", the more I came to understand that what we are shown in films is...bunk. Thranduil's fighting style looked fabulous on the big screen, but was apparently not particularly reality-approved. So when writing these scenes, I tried to hybridize real longsword techniques into the romance of what were definitely awesome cinematic action scenes. Then again, he is the great Elvenking. Maybe mortal realities didn't affect elves ;-)  
> [Rhiw 5, Imladris. November 28, Gregorian] Edited, version 2.0

Thranduil looked at her with openmouthed astonishment, at this uncharacteristic announcement.

 And just as quickly, before he could rise to the bait, she changed the subject. Her face wore an impermeable mask of innocence and compliance. "What activity comes next, may I ask?" she inquired, not skipping a beat. He narrowed his eyes, searching the surface thoughts of her mind. 

 _She has learned to push thoughts down to where they are not so easily read_ , he mused. And he held her blameless; he had no wish to press every advantage. "We have a little more than an hour, until Tauriel will come to work on bow and knife. I will remain present for this; it is a chance for me to observe her at teaching. Galion delivered my message yesterday, to search for more pieces of armor for you. So if you are prepared, we will return to work with the sword." He looked down on her. "Excuse me for a moment, I need to retrieve something." 

Nenni used the opportunity to fill one more goblet of water for herself. The flavor of the water here surpassed anything previously available, and she loved to drink it. Even more than the wine, which was saying something. He returned, with his swords in his hands. Except, they weren't. 

"These are for you," he said, holding the blades in their scabbards and harness out to her. "I had them made for you some time ago, when you first expressed an interest in learning." Thranduil watched her mouth open several times as she seemed about to say something, and failed. Looking on in amusement, he found that she simply could not form a coherent thought. Taking them, she slowly drew one. They were almost exactly like his own, but the decoration down the length of the blade was rendered in ivy.  

Finally she managed to repeat, "These are for me." Though whether it was a statement or a question, even she did not know.  Finally she managed to stammer out, "I thank you, Thranduil. They are magnificent. I will work hard to be deserving of this gift." He could see that while she appreciated and enjoyed everything he'd ever brought her, these meant something extra. This was a skill in which she hungered for ability and acceptance; that he would acknowledge her in this way touched her deeply. He gestured for her to proceed to the practice rooms.

There was an array of extra armor laid out, in the leather he'd asked for. _It should be adequate to keep us from doing quite so much damage to the other_ , he thought. When Tauriel suggested the corset and gorget, no one could have known her ability level. It was time to move to  vambraces, real boots, and cuirass, all of which were here and of the correct size. He helped Nenni fit all these pieces, and adjusted the buckles on her sword harness. Particularly, time was spent to ensure that the boots fitted correctly.

"From now on you will always run and practice in this gear, at a minimum. We have not yet done any work with two swords. This is another experiment on my part. It stands to reason you have this skill as well, so let us see."

She drew them, first to her right hand, then the left. Her muscles needed time to accustom themselves to this motion; there was no merit to slicing both her arms on accident. Without being asked, her feet began moving around the room. Instinctively she held the twin blades as he did, twirling them as feet turned her body. _The appeal is obvious...it is like knife work but so much more._ The swords were extensions of herself, and she moved at the center of a vortex of deadly steel. 

"Return to me, Adonnenniel," Thranduil said, approving of what he watched. "We will now spar. You will find this to be very different than with the single blade. For all of how wonderful it looks, this is a limited application. When pressed in battle, especially against armored opponents or in crowded spaces, you want one sword only. This fighting style is for the occasions, and there are many, when you are confronted by a series of attackers coming at you in more or less a single file. Orc armor is always poor at the neck, and this is your target for the tip of either blade. They are slow and stupid and that is why this rapid onslaught is so effective and reducing their numbers. I will have an extra scabbard made to hang at your right leg; you do not want to be wasting time re-sheathing that blade over your shoulder in a fight. Adding and removing the second blade in combat as needed must be as seamless as breathing. The advantage you are being provided is a dual chance to injure, as well as the ability to use the blades to shield and counterattack at the same time. With two blades, you also have better ability to deflect arrows.

Because I enjoy my head attached to the rest of me, I will also be donning a cuirass and gorget. No longer will I underestimate your skills. If you will excuse me briefly, those are in an adjoining room."

As he left, suddenly a thought washed over her. She began the box step, the waltz they had danced down the Elf path, as she moved her blades in smooth motions. Nenni laughed, for the joy of feeling her limbs move so freely. How sorry she was, she had not tried to learn to dance before now. The King returned to the room to see this, and smiled. "Will you dance with the Orcs instead, when you have  me for a partner?" he teased. 

He kept out one blade to her two, since no enemy fought with two swords. "See what you can do," he said, "to find an opening. Use slower speeds at first; we will see what happens. Remember that each blade must be for both attack and defense; do not repeat the same patterns and thereby become predictable." As Nenni let her borrowed knowledge flow through her motions, she had some recognizance that without their mental adventures, she would never achieve this. This was centuries of practiced mastery; _his_ mastery, and the sensation was exhilarating. It reminded her of the Matrix films, and the idea of "downloading" skills into the mind. A great deal of sidestepping and weaving occurred, as she tried to vary the angle of  her attack. He did not allow her an easy target. Sometimes he would press her, at which times she found she had more offensive ability to try and slip past his blade. She would vary her grip too, as the need arose. The swords were so balanced, they could be spun somewhat like her knives at need. Still, she had not been able to breach his defenses even once. And vice versa.

"Do not forget, Adonnenniel, all is fair on a battlefield." Hearing this oblique suggestion, an idea formed in Nenni's mind.  Tauriel had come to the doorway, and was now watching them through the partial opening in complete disbelief. As the King pressed a series of attacks on his wife, she was at the center of a maelstrom of steel. They danced around the room, each seeking an advantage. Tauriel watched Nenni bluff that she was off balance to entice the King forward, only to shift and throw all her weight into the left side of his body as she blocked his attack with her blade. She hooked her left ankle around his own and caused him to stumble. That was all the opportunity Nenni needed to strike at him again with her feet, further upsetting him. He was down, vulnerable, and her swords were at his throat. "Yield?"

 "Yes meleth, I yield. That was well executed. Though, had I been a yet larger opponent I am uncertain that your tactic would have succeeded. Do you agree, Tauriel?" 

Nenni almost dropped her blades, so startled was she that they were no longer alone. Thranduil greatly enjoyed the sight of the usually imperturbable Tauriel attempting to compose an answer. "Yes, my Lord" was all that emerged, so unable was she to process what she'd just seen. He was the greatest warrior in Ennor. Tauriel had sparred with him once, at the height of her ability, and he had defeated her as surely as if he were swatting at a fly.

Nenni interrupted Thranduil's enjoyment, and did her best to ignore his mock pout that Tauriel could not see because he'd stepped behind his Commander. 

Approaching the Commander, she intoned: "Tauriel. There is something you must understand, though I do not believe this needs to be common knowledge just yet. The King and I have passed through some... unusual circumstances. We have joined our minds to each other in ways that are not usual. And that as an effect of this connection,  we have transferred certain of the other's skills and abilities. What you see me able to do is not of my own learning; I can do this because the King can do this. But the transfer was not complete; it is irregular. We have different bodies. I do not necessarily have tactical understanding behind my physical abilities. Such as this is why I need instruction; all weaknesses must be found and corrected. Did I say that well enough, my King?"

"You did," he chuckled, smiling broadly. Tauriel had never seen him with a demeanor this relaxed and informal. It felt utterly out of character to be near this version of him, who was so cold and distant for so very long. Yet, she welcomed it, because she had truly desired his happiness and healing. He appeared to have finally found it, and it gladdened her heart.

Thranduil showed Nenni a trick by which to guide her swords back into this kind of harness, and reminded her of what to unbuckle. He then took his place quietly in the doorway, and gestured for them to continue.

"My Lord says I am to train at everything in the armor I now wear, Tauriel. I am yours to instruct."

"Very well, let us begin, then, my....." Tauriel realized she was caught between conflicting obligations. 

Nenni understood quickly and turned to the King. "My Lord, I insisted that Commander Tauriel  address me informally during our time together. May we also continue this way, in your presence?" 

"Of course, Adonnenniel, Tauriel," came his soft answer.

Tauriel could only think _Who are you, and what did you do with Aran Thranduil?_ but her face betrayed no such thought, and returned to the task at hand.

"Did you work with the knives at all?" Tauriel asked. 

"Yes, Commander, I worked on the exercise you showed me until I felt it was settled in, and then I practiced throwing the knives at the mannequins a bit." 

"Show me, please, Adonnenniel" requested Tauriel. Behind her, unseen, Thranduil's eyebrows raised. This was the first person, other than himself, to choose to use the queen's actual name.

Nenni began slowly, allowing her hands to warm up to the knives as she first alternated spinning them, one hand at a time. But in less than a minute, Nenni's feet joined in, and she executed an impressive series of drills with complex movements and footwork, terminating in her throwing her knives from each hand into the mannequin at the places eyes would be. Tauriel could honestly find nothing to correct in what she had seen. 

"My King, if you are remaining, would you be willing to spar against Adonnenniel, both of you using sheathed knives? I would appreciate being able to evaluate her from a distance."

Thranduil nodded his head in assent, taking Tauriel's own knives while Nenni replaced the leather covers on her blades. "Begin," instructed Tauriel, finding it vaguely surreal to be commanding her King and his queen. Nenni came out against him with explosive footwork, testing when and where he would try to strike out at her. She knew his reflexes were like lightning, and that in this setting, aiming a throw at him would only allow him to deflect it, costing her a blade. She tried to see if he could be lured toward the walls, but he had begun to develop a healthy respect of her use of vertical surfaces to undo him. "My Lord, please attack her as an orc would attack her,' Tauriel asked. With that, the King ran straight at her, seeking to take her down with his weight and momentum. Measuring her distance, and keeping her eyes on him, she acted as though she were going to suicidally come at his chest. At the last second she tucked and rolled right between his legs, unfolding to spring up behind him and place both her knives at his throat, at the top of her leap. She had the victory, but frowned. 

"Many of them are taller, larger than the King, and this would not have worked. What other options did I have?" she asked them. 

Tauriel pointed out the stabbing blow to the neckbones and opening the great blood vessels at the throat, which did not require quite so high of a leap. And that in the event of a truly large opponent such as a troll, severing the lower leg or heel ligaments from behind could cripple them enough to made them far more vulnerable.  By way of praise, the Commander commented that many orcs were not even as large as the King, in which case she would have succeeded easily. 

Nenni nodded, carefully filing away the information. "And Wargs?" she asked, "where are they weakest? 

"Eyes, heart, throat, belly" Tauriel replied. "But they are quick, powerful and not something to engage at close quarters except at dire need. It is always preferable to use a bow or spear for such. I can find no fault with your knife work, Adonnenniel. I think it would be beneficial, in future sessions, to bring in random opponents who will know nothing of your skills. I will do my best to terrorize participants into silence. This will give you practice at countering different fighting styles, so we can look for any places to improve. Do you have questions?"

"Only one," Nenni said. If the swords are at my back, where do I carry the knives?" Tauriel laughed. She showed her the reinforced flap at the outside of each of her boots, and how the blades fit into them. "They will not interfere with your running, and the grips will be easily accessible on either side."

"We should move to the bow now," Tauriel indicated. "Will you please retrieve it and position yourself as though the mannequin were your target? 

Nenni did as asked. "Draw and slowly return the string to position, five times" Tauriel said. Nenni complied, feeling some measure of gratitude for the torment he subjected her to yesterday. Her shoulder was much stronger than before. 

"You are significantly improved from two days ago," Tauriel noticed. "You have been working on your exercises?" 

"Some, yes, Commander" she said, while sending to Thranduil _May I tell her the full truth?_

The King spared her the need. "I bear most of the responsibility for this, Tauriel. You are likely aware that I have gifts of healing. I pushed the queen beyond her limits repeatedly yesterday, at drawing the string, and then healed the damage from the overexertions. It had the effect of rapidly increasing her strength."

Tauriel nodded. _Did these two do anything normally?_  She was beginning to wonder, but maintained her phlegmatic exterior. 

"Please bring your arrows, we need the practice targets in the yard outside." 

"Do I put this on, Tauriel? I have never used a quiver before." 

"Yes," she said, rapidly fitting it on Nenni and adjusting the straps correctly.  As they made their way outside, Thranduil searched extra carefully for any potential curiosity seekers. He felt protective of his wife, and would ensure that at least in the very beginning, she did not have the pressures of an audience. He did catch one young guard, lingering at a tunnel entrance. One glower in the newly terrified ellon's direction solved that problem. He smiled. He was a different King now, but the entire world did not need to know. Sadly, intimidation and authority went hand in hand, and having the former prevented so much needless use of the latter.

Tauriel demonstrated the correct arm motion by which to elegantly draw from the quiver, nock an arrow, and arrive at a ready position prior to drawing. "Just doing this smoothly and rapidly is an important skill. You already know how easy it is to fumble with arrows; battle is not target practice. 

"Tauriel, I see you are using a finger position for a three-under draw style. I have always used the split finger. Do you wish me to learn to do as you do?" 

Tauriel considered. "There are advantages to each, but none that matter so much that you must use one over the other. We will explore both, and make that decision a little later. For now, you may choose split fingered. When you are ready, taking as much time as you need, shoot three arrows so I may watch you. Do not concern yourself so much with hitting anything as on your form."

Thranduil felt genuinely curious to see this. While of course he could shoot, it had simply never been a focus of his. Whatever was present within her for ability would be much more of her own origin.

She did as asked, moving slowly and deliberately. A grouping of three arrows made their way into the blue section of the target, with admirably little distance between them. He attempted to contain how proud he was of her, curbing his smile.

"Three more, please, said Tauriel." Nenni saw that she was shooting a little left of center, so her solution was to incrementally shift her right foot back a bit to change the line of her body. This brought the grouping into the yellow. To Tauriel's immense satisfaction, her consistency was excellent. 

Tauriel now said, "You will now aim for the target that is several yards further back, three arrows." 

Nenni frowned. "May I ask for a guide as to what to aim for? I am inexperienced with these distances and the adjustments in elevation." 

Tauriel smiled, pleased with the question. "You would probably not go amiss to aim for the top of the white, on the target." 

This was out of her league, so Nenni took her best guess on how well lined up she was. But then she noticed the pattern in the paving stones that went out to the target. She literally already had a line to use, so she walked right to it, trying to guesstimate the line versus where her bow was held. She shot her first arrow, landing it in the yellow as well. A brief smile flitted on her lips. But she reminded herself, _only consistency matters._ Yellow, and then just into the blue followed. 

Tauriel said, "three more, and are you remembering to release the arrow just at the point you have exhaled?"  

"I did not remember, thank you." _Duh_ , she thought, rolling her eyes at herself. She nudged her right foot a few millimeters forward, drew, and exhaled before releasing. These three struck red, red, and yellow. _This is a good start,_ she thought _. And I owe most of it to the stronger shoulder._

"You may retrieve your arrows," Tauriel told her. She swiftly accomplished this, and returned. "That is all for today. I would like you to work on more draws, and on target practice. Please only these two targets, for now. You are doing very well. Next time we will evaluate the three-under draw, and discuss aim and distance a little. I will be asking you to aim at different colors and quadrants on different targets, so you may practice that if able. My King, Adonnenniel, if there is nothing else I will take my leave of you now." With a formal bow of her head she backed away from them, after respectfully waiting a moment. 

Returning briefly to the practice room, Nenni traded out the archery equipment for the swords. "Thranduil, do you not unstring the bows here, when they are not in use?" 

"Why would we?" he asked, frowning. 

She laughed. "That would be a No, then. It is unimportant." 

Returning to their chambers, she plopped into a chair, glad to be off her feet for a moment. Her toes wiggled inside the boots. They seemed to fit remarkably well, and were very comfortable. Thranduil came behind her and placed his strong fingers on her shoulders, experimentally massaging them. She was not in pain, but the touch sent a jolt of pleasure all the way to the top of her head, causing her to moan softly. "You cannot do this to me now, with work in the garden and running yet left to accomplish," she weakly protested. 

"Oh, I cannot?"

She knew that tone of voice, all too well, and quickly her mind went blank. He was looking for the smallest misstep, to turn it into a challenge. Interpreting her silence as submission, he continued on for a few moments more. But then his thumb found a painful knot that she hadn't known existed, and he left her to retrieve the salve. Sensing her chance, she was up and flying over the bed as if she'd been shot out of a cannon, making for the garden passage.

"No, you cannot," she said rather loudly, as she ran with all her might. If he wanted feisty, feisty she could give him. He was gaining  on her in the passageway, as he could run with terrible speed. But her luck was with her, for the door was ajar. The second needed to open it would have cost her, but now it was of no concern. She made it, and now she had her vines to command. Able to sense that his hand was about to close on her, she somersaulted forward, sending the vines against him. He was still armed, and she turned to find him cutting them away swiftly. This would not do!

Backing away from him for extra safety, she sent out more until he was overwhelmed, rooted where he stood. Inspecting his bonds with a critical eye, she felt reasonably confident that he was immobile, but feared to underestimate him. _Well, I may as well have my fun while it lasts._  With a little help from her vegetation, she gently prised his sword from his hand. 

Reaching up to stroke his cheek, she whispered to him softly, smiling. "What will you do now, my beautiful King? Ensnared for a second time; I would not have expected this of you. Are you held too tightly, anywhere?" He remained silent, and the expression in his eyes was unreadable. Suddenly contemplative, her voice dropped to nearly a whisper. "I wonder very much what you are thinking and feeling right now." Her fingers pushed back a wayward strand of his flaxen hair, while she gazed into his ocean blue eyes. "You see, I understand what it is to be submissive. It is most of my life, with you. Not only do I not mind it, I crave it. With little exception, I wish to be dominated and ruled by you. And you do this so very well, with both gentleness and great strength. But these little games of ours, that you seem to enjoy very much, they reverse the power balance between us. Does a small part of you wish to be dominated, just as a small part of me wishes to dominate? Is that the point of it, to allow each of us to spend a short time in a  place neither can otherwise occupy?" As she watched carefully, his pupils flared when  her last words were spoken.

"I see that is difficult for you; at the edge of what you can allow yourself to admit, even to yourself," she continued. Her sense of intuition had never been so attuned to him as it was at this moment. "It is the same within me. A time will come, when I will be in a frame of mind offer this to you. But before then, you must be able to tell or show me the nature of your desire, of your fantasy. Otherwise, you leave me blind, and at great risk of harming you. There is no shame in it; we all have strange corridors in our minds. Those who say otherwise are repressed, or lying."

In an instant she freed him, offering him his sword. "I am yours" she said, smiling. 

He took the blade from her, and sheathed it. He leaned down to meet her eyes and said, "I must teach you, Adonnenniel, never to give away a tactical advantage." With eyes glittering with mischief, he threw her over his shoulder, and walked toward their room.

 "As you wish, my beautiful King," she said, laughing. A single vine snaked out to wrap around his foot, tripping him. Tucking into a ball, Nenni rolled away unharmed, but not far or fast enough to escape his hand around her ankle. 

He dragged her back to him while she shrieked with laughter. Encased in his arms, his stare bore down on her. "Do you know what happens to incorrigible brats, Adonnenniel?" 

"But my Lord," she protested, "I was only obeying your direction. You said not to ever give away a tactical advantage." Nenni almost made it to the end of the sentence before convulsing with laughter. Catching the look on his face as he realized he could not argue the logic, she felt vaguely triumphant. But mostly, she was undone by his beauty, as was so often the case. "How I love you, Thranduil. You have my word, no more vines for now. I shall return to being my good little submissive self." 

He honestly did not know what to make of her, sometimes, but that was part of what he had missed for so long. "Then we shall eat, and then I shall run you until your spirit of mischief is too tired to return," he said. 

_**My** spirit of mischief?_

"I heard that, Adonnenniel."

"I am sorry, my King. I am certain it was an accidental thought." 

Laughing, he rose and held out his hand to her, and they returned. The table was laid out for lunch, but his strong hands steered her back to her original chair. He held her firmly, as he worked the salve into her knotted muscle, and once again she moaned in relief. "Why, Adonnenniel, did you resist what is in your own best interest?" he asked playfully. 

"I did not resist it," she fired back. "I merely resisted the timing of it. You will relax me so much that I will wish to fall asleep, not run and work. Besides, I know you enjoy mild defiance every now and then."

"I do not," he protested petulantly. 

Nenni snorted. "Husband, this is me you are talking to, not an elfling wandering the passageways. Please." 

He backed away, and gave his best authoritative scowl.

"Won't work," she said, her eyes twinkling. 

He leaned over her, his hands on her shoulders. "Do you not know by now, that it is unwise to provoke me?" 

 Staring him down and matching his gaze, she replied breezily. "I tried to tell you the same thing about me, but you did not listen. Your circumstances are all your own fault." 

"Adonnenniel, you are leaving me with little choice other than to teach you a lesson," he said sternly. 

"You may try," she replied calmly. "Though in fairness, I will point out that I could have done the same to you, not many moments ago, and showed you mercy instead."  Privately, she thought telling him this to be the equivalent of lighting a match near a powder keg. 

The look on his face was now unfathomable. She had provoked him into a corner, and the only question was what form of mock discipline would come surging back out at her. "A penny for your thoughts?" she asked, her face a mask of innocence. His eyes wide, he did the unexpected and opened his mind to her. What she saw was a genuine jumble. He was becoming aroused; he partly did wish to lash out at her, but knew there was no reason for doing so, and what had transpired in the garden had left him feeling confused and unclear regarding his own desires.

"Ah," she said, rising from her seat. Stripping off her armor and clothing, she explained, in between her motions. "I find that when in doubt, address the thing about which you are certain." Now naked, she lay down on the bed for him, smiling invitingly. "You know what to do. If you have a certain wish, you need only inform me."  

A strong image came from him, of what she'd done to him intimately the last time she had him fully restrained. 

"Come here," she beckoned. He sat on the edge of the bed while she removed armor and clothing, guiding him to lie down flat. Before beginning, she spread his legs gently, and propped each of them up on pillows so that she would later have access to all of him. After a chaste kiss on the mouth, her hands swept down his abdomen to take his hardening manhood with her lips. For a time teasing nibbles and gentle laving were offered, until he was fully swollen with need.  Considering her options, she decided that she could further her plan and keep herself from going entirely mad, all at once. Straddling him, she lowered herself onto his length slowly. Adjusting her knees to the perfect position, she pleasured herself on him, knowing that this would not take long. Squeezing with all of her might as she moved on him was rewarded, when she heard him gasp with the pleasure he gained from her tight compressions on his hard member. In a very short time, her orgasm came in earnest, squeezing him even more fully as she rocked her hips. Having eased herself, she resumed attending him with her mouth and lips, tasting herself on him. She paused, to bring the flavor to his mouth with a deep kiss. Her fingers drew the wetness from her cleft, and spread this across his lips. Realizing what she'd done, he took her fingers into his mouth, sucking hungrily on them. Her legs straddled him, placing her center of desirability near his mouth, as she returned her loving attentions to his shaft. It did not take him long to discover the opportunity she provided. Having satisfied herself, there was no need of the pleasure his lips and tongue brought; she only wished for his further arousal. Yet, she enjoyed it nonetheless. Repeatedly she moved his length in and out of her mouth, taking all of him in and sucking hard. When she began to hear his gasps, she moved her body to his side, now using only her hands. Her left hand took him, which she covered generously with her own juices. He'd begun to leak his own glistening lubrication, for which she had patiently waited. Catching as much as she could with her right hand, she transferred it to tease at his entrance. He moaned as her fingers pressed and circled him; this time he anticipated, and his arousal leaked generously. "Share your mind, Thranduil," she whispered softly. The moment he complied, she had a clear connection to everything she did for him. He was eager for her finger inside of him, so after ensuring he was lubricated enough, she obliged. He moaned loudly, when her finger found and stroked his sensitive gland. The massage inside of him gave him more stimulation than her efforts with her left hand, so she elected to resume with her mouth instead.  Her positioning was not so perfect as last time, but no matter. Following his mind through the path of his best enjoyment, she slowly and relentlessly raised his pleasure. Stroke after gentle stroke raised him to heights of ecstasy. When he was close, she encouraged him to drive into her mouth, if he wished. She relaxed her throat, taking all of him. With joy, she felt and heard him cry out as his orgasm came. She eagerly took everything he could give her, tenderly licking him clean after so that she did not overstimulate him at his most sensitive moment. After the last wave had passed through him, Nenni sensed his contentment. She straddled him again, so as to embrace him and rest her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms lightly around her.

After some moments, he gently rolled both of them onto their sides. His eyes shone with satisfaction. "Thank you, Adonnenniel. I only wish that there was some means by which I might give you such an extra measure of pleasure." She froze, lowering her eyes. Because there was, and she feared it more than she desired it. In all their time together, he had never asked, and she had never offered. He saw the storm of fear and confusion in her, and reached out to stroke her cheeks. "I do not understand," he said softly.  

She raised her eyes back to his slowly, and showed him that there was a pleasure not yet shared with him. "Do you know of this?" she asked. 

"No, I do not," he said. 

"It is how...you may make me experience the closest similarity to what I have given to you."

"But you fear this?"

"I fear how badly and in how many ways it can hurt. I have had only a few experiences. They were evenly divided between the greatest pleasure I have ever had, and some of the worst pain. And even the pleasure can be overwhelming. It is difficult to explain, but on at least one occasion the pleasure was so intense that it seemed to cause a wreckage in my nervous system. The men of my world desired this kind of intimacy greatly; few women were adventurous enough to be willing to try it, much less become very desirous of it. It is a primary means by which male couples pleasure each other." She hesitated. "It could be different, with you, because you can be in my mind. That you have the patience and the skill, I do not doubt." She sighed. "Yes, I would offer to do this with you, if you also desired it. There is no one I have ever trusted more."

"Show me your memories of this, Adonnenniel."

Opening herself fully to him, she did as he asked. There had only been a handful of encounters. 

"I do desire this, and I will keep you safe. There will be no pain or injury. But this is for a later occasion. I can see that time is required." He ran his fingers through her hair. "It took much trust, for you to share this with me. I can feel your sense of vulnerability.  It is only fair that I return the same. You spoke truly, earlier, in the garden. I have long ruled over others with mastery. No one could dominate me; it was not possible by virtue of both my position as King and my physical abilities. Until now. I had long wondered, what it might be like for someone to control me. When you captured me the first time, and I found I could not resist you....I no longer had to wonder. I liked it, and I wanted more. And then you gave me pleasure, such as I never had before. But another part of me does not know if I am supposed to allow myself this."

Her fingers stroked his warm chest. "On Earth there were those who believe that within every person is contained both masculine and feminine attributes. And that it is not healthy, to be possessed of only the qualities usually associated with one's physical gender. You are very masculine; your virility is beyond question. Yet, everything about your return to spiritual wholeness has been a result of embracing traits that are more feminine. Likewise, you have healed me by imposing more masculinity over my mind. I do not think it repulses you, that I wish to learn to fight or that I am fonder of armor than gowns. I believe that if you consider your desires in this light, you will see that you are only discovering how enjoyable it can be to have a more feminine experience of intimacy. I can tell you that you are not alone. Many I knew enjoyed physical restraint. Some enjoy things that are far beyond that, such as pain and punishment during intimacy. I am not certain there is a right or wrong, as long as what occurs is with consent and understanding. You will find I can willingly do a great many things to you, if I am certain of your forgiveness afterward. Or at least, some of the time. I too struggle with whether these proclivities are acceptable, and I must be in a certain frame of mind. Since we are confessing to each other, do you recall my reaction to piercing you with the sword yesterday?" 

He nodded.  

"I cannot honestly say if my reluctance to continue in that kind of swordplay was because I love you and wish you no harm, or if it was because...I could so very easily enjoy it. And I really do not know how to reconcile those two feelings that exist alongside each other."

"You have given me much to think about," he said. 

"As have you, husband. Thank you, I know that it was not easy for you to share these thoughts."

At that moment, her stomach growled mightily. She blushed, sitting up. "Lunchtime." Dressing and undressing was with armor required far more effort, and this caused a frown. Beren, who had dozed uninterestedly through all the morning, now perked up when he realized a tidbit of food might be had. He stretched, shook and made his usual showing of rising. Nenni decided that before the meal tonight, someone was going to be Lavender Dog. _I should have bathed him yesterday, but the opportunity did not present itself._

They ate lightly, knowing that running on a filled stomach was a terrible idea. More could be had, later on. As Thranduil took her down the track while Beren happily ran amok, he encouraged her to practice unsheathing and sheathing her blades at a run, demonstrating how to time her footfalls with the technique he had showed her earlier, for sheathing. It was not easy and she cut herself more than once, but she kept trying until she succeeded more than she failed. Thranduil kept an eye on her attempts, and stopped her when he saw too much blood on her hands, to heal them. He did not make good on his threat to run her to exhaustion, knowing that it would not be helpful to have her sleeping through their evening appointment with Lord and Lady Sadronniel.  If anything, he kept the run shorter, also considering the long outing planned with Legolas for tomorrow. He did, however, ask her to sprint for as much of the last mile as she could. He stopped Nenni when he could see that her body could no longer support it, and they walked the rest of the distance. Running her until she cramped or could no longer breathe was also unhelpful. Once returned, the armor came off for the day. She drank goblet after goblet of water, and ate more fruit and cheese. Beren successfully begged for a slice of bread, and then resumed his slumbers. 

Waiting for Thranduil, Nenni stretched in yoga poses, which was never the worst idea before using the scythe. Though she was skilled with the tool, long use of it always took a little toll. Trying the Sun Salutations, she noticed that she had more flexibility than before. A lot more. _I can now bend down and touch my head to my legs!_ Bending backwards, she could actually bring her palms down to the floor; the wheel pose. _Well, this is embarrassing. How does one get out of this position?_  

Thranduil found her thus. 

_Help me, please? Support my back? I am stuck._

Laughing, he raised her up, and kissed her. _Do I want to know?_

Chagrined, she replied."I can hardly deny you, after you rescued me. It is an exercise pose I could never do before. My body apparently has more flexibility than on earth, and I was carried away with my discoveries." 

Nenni took note of Thranduil's simple clothing. "We are to work in the garden now?" she asked. 

"Yes," he said. Gently taking her shoulders in his hands, he guided her forward. "You are about to overcome all your hesitations, and teach me to work alongside you at every form of manual labor. I am certain that was what you meant to say," he teased. She flushed pink with embarrassment, but offered no resistance. 

"Yes, my Lord." She sighed; this had never been easy. "I will do my best, Thranduil, but you must be patient with me. I have long worked alone. Even when Michael was alive, we tended to do different jobs on the farm. When I would need to show him things or when he would work with me, I usually made a shambles of it. I did not often teach others my skills, and most farm work is riddled with countless layers of details. I will not understand or recall what you do not know. Perhaps the knowledge transferred to you? I hope so." 

He could feel her anxiety. "Meleth, we will be fine. Realize that most of all, I am happy to spend the time in your company." 

Nenni nodded, reaching for his hand. "Before we do anything else, I must check that there are almonds for the magpies. Would you like to share an apple?" 

He nodded, and she returned swiftly with the fruit.

"You wivv to start with the vheat?" she mumbled incomprehensible through crunching on the apple, handing him his half. 

"I think that would be best." 

"Give me a moment, while you eat that." The wheat she'd raised up for the demonstration to the trade council was still there, unharvested. All acre of it. It dawned on her, they should both harvest; it would go faster. With her scythe over her shoulder, she explained the need to go to the storeroom for another one. "Do you sense you know the use of this?" she asked. 

"Not clearly, no." 

"No matter. Look into my mind, and hold it so I can look at what size you need. Stand tall, as you usually do. Relax your arms and take the handles."  As suspected, he needed a snath about six to ten inches longer than the one she used. 

"While I am gone, you can use the flat baskets to pick any manner of fruit you see for the kitchens. They are all ripe, so no need to worry about learning which ones to choose." She trotted off swiftly to the southern door. Finding  Erudan, she asked for a second scythe and sharpening stone, and swiftly returned with her prizes. In disbelief, she saw that he had already harvested a very large amount of fruit...he worked very fast. _Then again who doesn't, compared to me?_   He was good at everything, and she doubted that this would be any different.

"I think another reason I always worked alone is that it made me feel better about myself," she said softly, returning to him. "You will find out quickly, that I cannot keep up with you. Please don't hold it against me." 

"It is not a contest, meleth. And, I am enjoying myself." 

Nenni nodded. "These are for you," she stated, holding out the scythe  and stone to him. "The tool is very efficient, but requires rather a lot of care during use." She explained that the whole tool is a scythe, made up of a snath, and a blade fitted into a ring. And that the snath had also the grip and stem, and the blade had a tang, heel, beard, chine and toe. How the blade was first peened, and then sharpened, and that very frequent sharpening was needed. He was offered a small gourd that she used to hold water, tied at her belt, and how the wet stone was used on the blade. After demonstrating the motion to sharpen, a cursory flick of her thumb over the cutting edge sliced deeply. "Thath's not fair, mine wath dull when I dook it." Reflexively, her digit had gone straight into her mouth, which did nothing to aid her diction.

Amused, he gently pulled her thumb from her mouth so that he might repair it. 

 "Thank you, and I just demonstrated very well why to be careful sharpening. I've done the same to my knuckles more times than I can say, being in a hurry and running my fingers right into the blade." 

Next he helped her unroll one of the very long cloths. This part was easier, with a second person. "We will work toward the center, from opposite sides of the field. We are both right-handed, so there is no other choice. I have to warn you, if Beren is ever in here with us, he is a moron. Do not permit him to be near you when harvesting; it is far too easy to not notice another person or animal around and hurt them badly."

Next she explained the physics of the blade and the cutting arc, and how to adjust the amount of grain he elected to take in a single stroke. "With your greater strength, you will be able to take more grain with each cut. It is less important to take as much as possible than it is to make sure the speed of your blade is not slowed by encountering too much resistance." She demonstrated the stance and motion of swinging the blade. "The hardest thing for many is to keep the blade lowered down. I usually imagine I am trying to smack it along the soil line; the cutting edge will not work if the blade is allowed to elevate." And that lastly, he could use the momentum of his motion to deposit the stalks, all lined up in one direction, onto the sheets. "If it is helpful, look on in my mind as I go a short distance." Mowing down several yards, she said, "If you have no questions, I will turn you loose to see what you can make of it. I do not wish to hover; I am sure you know best how you learn new things." Turning, she left him to try it out while she unrolled another long cloth on the opposite side of the field. 

Nenni never quite knew what to do, when teaching others. Since she was self-taught at many things, it made sense that a person would like some time to puzzle things out for themselves, without a hovering instructor issuing constant corrections. Once her cloth was settled, she glanced over to see him cutting and stacking the grain perfectly. _I wonder if it took him one swing of the blade, or two, to be that good_ , she thought wryly. Recalling her first hour ever with the tool in her hand, and then the next three hours spent watching YouTube videos to try and understand why nothing would work, she smiled. A sense of her good fortune, to be partnered with someone so physically capable, threatened to distract her from her own work. Soon enough, her feet stepped into the strange, swaying rhythm while a random song was hummed in fits and starts. Stopping eventually to sharpen her blade, she felt her face heating up. Her unbound hair was far too warm, so her tresses transformed into a messy braid that she then knotted; just enough to keep it off the back of her neck. _And I forgot to bring water_.  Annoyed with her own disorganization, she elected to finish the task first. 

Thranduil appeared in front of her, smiling, holding her filled water flask. "Drink, meleth," he said, as he moved behind her to plait her hair. 

"You should not reward my ineptitude", she said, as she drank gratefully. "You will only encourage my forgetfulness and disorganization."

"Since I am the likely cause of it, I disagree," he said, finishing with her hair and kissing the crown of her head. 

"You are done?" she asked. He nodded, and she walked to look. As she'd expected, he was able to make very large swaths, compared to her. He was at least three times as productive, per unit of time. "You were right to overrule me. This is perfect work, and you are far more efficient than I. Well done! And now we move onto obtaining the grain." Her gift disintegrated the chaff and stalks, to the extent necessary. "Next I roll up the cloths." She brought her large winnowing baskets over, and demonstrated how to tip the rolls so that the contents of the cloth would flow into the baskets. Except, they were now much heavier than before, and she had to strain to lift them. "Oh!" she exclaimed, nearly dropping the bundle at first. "Your rolls may need multiple baskets. There is too much here!" Once the cloth was empty, the process could start all over again. "Always let me know when you are done, unless you wish a rest, so I do not keep you waiting. You are content, with this?" she asked. 

"Very", he said, smiling. 

Inclining her head to him, she returned to her own row.   _I must have been mental, to have wanted to refuse his help._ With her new training and other duties, she no longer had all day every day to spend here; it would have been very difficult, alone. They worked steadily, and it was not long before all the grain was in baskets, ready for winnowing. There was still a breeze, though not as strong as earlier. "Winnowing is best done when the air moves the most. I can show you what is done now, but there is always more wind in the early afternoon." With a brief demonstration, that was the extent of it. 

They transferred all but one basket of the fruit he had picked to the southern passage, for another to remove to the kitchens. She showed him the hooks she had made for hanging the scythes, and where he could leave his whetstone and water. Taking her own share of the apples, they returned to the room. Her own shoulders burned somewhat, causing curiosity about how he had fared. "Did the cutting tire you at all?" she asked, already guessing the answer. 

"No meleth, it did not. I could do much more. I am blessed with a great deal of strength." Vaguely, she wondered what _that_ was like. "I am glad, and I thank you so much, for your help" she replied simply, thinking to ease her back in the hot water. The apples were placed on the table. "May I bathe, if there are no other obligations for the moment?"

"Yes, but first come here."  Ushering her into a chair, he rubbed and soothed her tired muscles. She reached up, to touch his arm in a gesture of thanks. "Adonnenniel", he said, "I must tell you something. Now that I have seen this work for myself, I am further impressed by the level of your achievement. Even with your gifts, I see now how much very hard work this required of you, to do it alone. Your ambition, persistence, and determination to be of service are admirable. I am very proud of you, both as your husband, and your King." 

Her cheeks reddened with discomfort. It felt like being praised for having red hair; all this was simply her nature. "Thank you, my Lord", was her quiet response. 

He came around to kneel in front of her, taking her chin in his fingers. "But Adonnenniel, that is what you fail to understand. Red hair is very rare and lovely, as are the qualities you possess." Though she tried to clear her mind, Nenni could not keep down the degree to which she was barely tolerating these words.  He began to see that she had some kind of wall built in her thinking; she would not accept his praise because she refused to believe that she was in any way deserving of it. 

 _He is seeing this_... The awareness caused her to panic. "Please," she said, "I cannot hide from you. All of my life I have thought this way about myself, and I do not know how to change. Nor do I wish to." Her eyes were squeezed shut, as she bought herself a few more seconds of pretending she was not about to be called to task on this.

"Meleth, you must look at me." 

She did not want to. A small place in her mind had evaded his healing, and it was fighting for its life to remain in her, like a cornered animal. He was astonished to find this. As he searched her deeply, he now held her face. He perceived that her imbalance was a product of her mind's earliest efforts to protect her; she could not afford to be vulnerable to the praise of others. If she thought well of herself, it became something that could be taken from her. Any real belief in her own worth was beaten down, until she knew nothing else. His heart filled with pity, and determination. He would not allow this to continue to dwell in her. Still her eyes remained closed. 

"Adonnenniel," he said, gently but with authority, "open your eyes. Obey me."  Thranduil felt her use all of her will to force herself to do as he asked. And when she did, he saw her eyes full of the brokenness he had believed fully conquered.  

 _Please, let me go_ , he heard her plead.

"I will never let you go, meleth. But I will heal this damage. Do not be afraid, this is not your fault. I am not angry. Open yourself to me, trust me, and do not resist me." Her hands reached up to hold his wrists, to have something on which to anchor herself. The weight of his mind arrived, but it was not like last time. He filled her with truth; she was valued and appreciated, and deserved to feel thus.  That her wrong thinking served only to rob herself and others of joy, and that he was about to remove it. A single tear fell from her eye, as she felt him pull away her resistance. He built a new set of certainties into her thoughts. When he'd finished, he took her into his arms, opening his mind to her. He forced her to see herself as he saw her, to understand the light and worth she possessed. 

Her discomfort and her sense of vulnerability were absent. She wondered, in scientific terms, what he had done to her. From what was known of neuroscience at the time she left Earth, he would have rewritten the pathways in her brain at a biochemical level. Or this could be called a miracle, or magic. It did not matter. She continued to look into the ocean blue of his eyes,  not understanding for the thousandth time why she deserved to be his.  _Once again I do not have words to thank you. There is no way I can ever repay you. But if I become prideful, I shall remind you that I tried to talk you out of this._ She smiled at him shyly, kissing his cheek.

"May I bathe now, my Lord?" she asked him softly. He released her from his arms, nodding his assent. She went to the sideboard, and took a slice of bread, holding it between her teeth as she began to disrobe. Next she dropped two towels near the edge of the pool.. "Beren, come" she called, waving the bread. To Thranduil's astonishment, Nenni marched the dog  straight into the pool before giving him the slice. Before he could issue a word of comment, she was already working lavender soap into the dog's fur, carefully avoiding his eyes. He watched her strong fingers massage Beren's fur, muscles, and...his eyes widened as she soaped up the dog's genitals right along with the rest of him.  He felt a twinge of envy at the sight. Next she moved him to deeper water and scrubbed at his fur more, working all the soap out. She frequently kissed his nose during all of this, to Thranduil's amusement. From time to time, Beren issued moans of delight, licking his mistress in return. Nenni then bent down, smelling his fur all along his back and head. Satisfied, she brought him out of the water, scraping the wetness out of his fur with her hands. She dropped one towel over him, and laid on other on the floor on which she had him lie down. He was swiftly dried and released, whereupon he naturally ran and shook all over the room for a good minute. This, she ignored. Dog hair clung to her naked body as she wadded up the towels and tossed them aside. 

Only now did Nenni realize that Thranduil had been watching all of this. His expression of longing as he disrobed made her smile. "Do you also wish to be given a bath, my Lord?" Her words teased but her tone was kind. He entered the pool and embraced her. Leading him to the deeper area, she swept him off his feet. With the aid of the water, her arms had strength enough hold him as he did her. Cradling him, she lowered his head back to wet all his hair. Next came the soap she worked carefully into his scalp, massaging all the muscles of his head with her strong fingers. And more soap to do the same to his face, stroking his forehead, cheeks and jaw. With the greatest care all was rinsed, minding his eyes. More cleansing of his body followed, with a nearby sponge, before leaving him to relax in the water. She dove under to wet her own hair, enjoying a few slow twirls. Now he stood before her, with the soap bowl in hand, and  eyes sparkling. It was not necessary to ask. Closing her eyes, she steadied herself against his waist.

As he lathered her scalp, he was astonished at the sense of pleasure he perceived from her. So many parts of his wife that were not connected to sexual enjoyment were unusually sensitive. Her enjoyment was not erotic, but it was just as strong. He suddenly saw much more clearly why she loved his attentions to any part of her that had soreness or discomfort; they registered at a much lower threshold than in himself. Smiling, he decided that he would be certain to make better use of this information in the future. He finished bathing her, and kissed her forehead. Already he wanted her again, but concluded his evening would be so much more fulfilling if he denied himself for the time being.

Nenni had wrapped her hair up in the towel, smiling as she saw him do the same. Beren happily rolled on the stone floor, singing the song of his people. He usually had to be coaxed into a bath, but afterward, he felt so good he couldn't stand himself.  And she felt much better about the idea of a Lord and Lady coming here without Beren smelling like a hound. "How long until the meal, Thranduil?" she inquired.  

"About an hour."

"Please excuse me for a few moments."  

As he raised his eyebrows, she walked off to the garden in nothing but the towel around her waist, having freed her hair; oblivious, to how appealing she was. And the carefree sway of her hips...it was not easy, to repress the sudden surge in his loins. _She will be the ruin of me,_ he thought happily. He used to pride himself on his ability to remain aloof from those around him. Now, he could not even fathom wanting to.

She returned with a basket of mixed fruit, a small gourd-turned-vase for some roses, and the blossoms of Vána. "For our guests," she explained, catching his eye as she searched for a place to set it down. Returning to him, she brought the comb and went to work. She could not ignore the heady lavender fragrance that now hung all around him. Her own loins twinged with sudden heat, but the thought was firmly quelled. She had never wanted a lover as much as she seemed to want him. _It probably will not go on forever this way_ , she reasoned, _but one can always hope_. "Would you choose for me, what to wear this evening?" she asked, handing him the comb. It was the first time anyone had come here except Legolas, and she had no idea what was suitable. 

"Of course, meleth," he said, and gestured for her to sit.  _How convenient of her to ask me_ , he thought. Being fairly determined that she would look the part of a royal beauty this evening, Thranduil had ordered her a new gown before he'd even issued the invitation. He had also commissioned something from the jewelers, an idea that came to him weeks ago. And he was immensely looking forward to seeing all of it on her. He realized that her eyes were closed, as she relaxed under his touch. _Perfect._ "I have just placed your strands of hair as I wish them for your hairstyle, meleth. Please hold very still, I shall be just a moment."

"As you wish, my Lord," she said, relaxed almost to the point of drowsiness. 

He returned, setting the delicate  emerald-studded bandeau on her head. It was made to appear as a chain of ivy leaves that encircled her hair; each small leaf was inset with many tiny emeralds for color. Thranduil expertly plaited in the small braids that he would use to accent the piece, being aware she could not feel it. Circling her to check his handiwork, he was very pleased. "Do not touch your hair as it finishes drying, meleth," he asked. Nodding, she thanked him. Raising her out of her seat, he walked her forward, to where she was in better light. "Wait here, please." He had stored the box for her new gown in her own chamber, knowing that her lack of focus on clothing would make it the safest hiding place. Returning to her with the garments, he helped her into the satin underclothing made for the gown. The garment itself was an exact match to the color of her eyes; Grecian-styled, with many gathers and an open back and chest. He designed this to show off every emerald in the Necklace of Girion, which she would wear tonight. He did up the closures for her in the back, and then stepped over to the box that held the priceless jewels. Removing them, he approached her from the rear, draping the piece around her. 

Nenni knew what they were the moment they touched her skin; the weight and feel of the collar was unmistakable. It surprised her that he would wish to see her in these tonight. But then again, she had no idea what counted for a suitable time for that level of finery. His judgement in these matters far outweighed her own. Last were slippers that matched the gown. 

Looking on her, his heart ached to see her beauty. And the real charm of her was, if he told her to wear her work clothes for dinner, she would be just as content. He'd seen the behavior of some of the wives and daughters of his nobles; so obviously consumed by outward appearances. A few had even audaciously tried to catch his eye in the past, believing the Statue of Mandos might surely apply to a spouse slain by a dragon. He had never been open to them; the thought of being with another, _especially_ those ellith, seemed repugnant. He had given his heart once only, and against all hope she had been restored to him. "Would you like to see, meleth?" Craning her head around, she was trying to look at what she wore. 

"Yes, please," she said, eagerly. He took her by the hand to the large mirror. When she caught sight of herself,  only the word "Oh!" escaped her lips. She reached up to barely touch the hairpiece, her eyes shining with appreciation. Pivoting first one way and then the other, she took in the simple yet incredibly flattering gown, as the jewels sparkled in the waning daylight.  Finally, she turned to her husband. "Thank you, for what you have done for me, Thranduil. I feel...beautiful. I owe all this to you," she said shyly. The words touched his heart. He knew she was thanking him for more than the adornments. For the first time in her life, she had been able to say something good about herself, and mean it. She took his hands and reached up to kiss him in gratitude. 

"You are welcome, meleth", he said warmly. "And now, I must make some attempt to be fit to be seen next to you." As he left for his wardrobe, he heard her say faintly in her mind: 

_If you went as you are now, you would be no less perfect._

He sent back to her, much more firmly, _Meleth, that would hardly be a kindness for the Lady Sadronniel. She would never recover from her envy._

His reward was the shriek of laughter he heard coming from the next room. 


	12. Business With Pleasure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rhiw 5, Imladris. November 28, Gregorian] Edited, version 2.0

Galion entered as she was pouring wine for the two of them. Nenni turned and kindly spoke to him, "Good evening, Galion, how are you?" in such a way as to make it clear that she actually cared about the answer. 

"Thank you my Lady, I am very well". Placing his laden tray on the sideboard and really looking at her, his eyes widened. "May I say, my Lady, your appearance this evening is exquisite." 

Smiling kindly, she replied "Thank you, Galion. It is fortunate for me that my King is both generous and gifted with a strong sense of fashion. I assure you that I would never manage this without him. I do not wish to disturb your preparations, please excuse me now." Galion bowed to her and smiled. He had been nearby enough now to see that she was modest and appreciative. That she loved his King with all her heart, she had more than proven. Galion felt she was more precious than all the gems in Thranduil's vault.  

Nenni waited to offer the King his goblet. She sat on the stone bench, having asked Beren to sit near her. She leaned against his strong frame. "Could you ever imagine we would find ourselves here, Buddy?" she asked him, not really expecting an answer.. He turned to her, and licked her eyes, as he loved to do. "Someday I shall ask my Lord to tell me why you like to lick my eyes, Beren. There is so much about you I only guess at. But I love you, whatever your reasons." She wrapped her arms around his chest, and kissed the top of his brindled head. Doing so, she felt strong hands on her shoulders. Reaching up to take his right hand, she turned her head to kiss her husband's fingers.

Rising, she offered him the wine, turning to look at him. He was magnificent, and imposing. His tunic was of emerald green silk, but all the rest of his garments were black; boots, breeches, and robe. On his head he wore something she has not yet seen. It was of silver-steel, worked in the fashion of antlers. It was not as large as his crown, but was more substantial than his diadem. Right at the forward part of it, at the hairline, was mounted a single large emerald in a teardrop cut. Without thinking, she curtsied to him, still holding out the goblet. Taking it from her, he said, "Adonnenniel, there is no need," extending her hand to raise her back up. 

As she stood there, looking on him, she said "I wonder sometimes, if you realize the effect you have on those near you. It would be difficult to refrain, my King. You are so very beautiful to look upon." 

He smiled down on her. "Thank you, meleth. And, I believe our guests have arrived."

 _Please help me, to know what to say and do_ she reminded him.

 _Stand next to me, and take my arm_ , she heard. Leaving their goblets at the stone bench, she complied. He walked her forward, as Galion had admitted the Lord and Lady to the chambers. _As I introduce you to each of them, politely incline your head but do nothing else_. Nenni followed his directions, with the kindest smile she could manage painted onto her face. Beren made an appearance to give each of the nobles a polite sniff before retreating back to the bedchamber. 

 _I wonder how much he had to bribe Beren to behave so well_? Nenni thought.  Soon they were seated, with Thrandui at the head of his table, Lord Sadronniel to his right, Lady Sadronniel to his left, and Nenni next to the Lady. 

The thing Nenni found hardest, was that unlike among edain, there were no visual cues as to anyone's age or status among elves, that she could perceive. Everyone, including her King, looked frozen in time at about thirty years of age, to mortal eyes. The Lord and Lady at their table were no different. Lord Sadronniel, who had likely been around since the Romans ruled the civilized world, appeared just as youthful as any of them. It was hopelessly confusing, to her. Sadronniel was tall, but not close to the height of Thranduil. If she has to guess, her husband was 6' 5" or 6' 6", while Lord Sadronniel was more like six feet even. Nenni estimated her own height at 5' 8", four inches taller than her height as a human. Lady Sadronniel appeared to be the same height as she was. The Lord and Lady both had pale hair, like her King, but she would describe them more as blond. Thranduil's hair was somewhere between blond and silver, noticeably different. Nenni knew, given the seating, that she should try and engage the Lady in conversation. She had always done well by asking others about themselves but quickly realized her usual arsenal of questions were perhaps ill-suited to Elven nobility. Nenni decided to head into more placid waters. 

"Lady Sadronniel, how well the color of your gown compliments your face! And the fabric, what a magnificent pattern!" While she would much rather discuss how best to nock an arrow, a flurry of flattered chatter from Lady Sadronniel rewarded her efforts. Nenni appeared to listen to every word with rapt attention. She was beyond grateful to Galion, who managed to interrupt with the next course of food,  each time when Nenni was about to go cross-eyed. _I need not have worried about making conversation with this rather shallow elleth..._ At the least provocation the Lady would freely launch into another monologue about jewelry or clothing. After what seemed like an eternity, Lady Sadronniel asked about the hair ornament Nenni wore. "It was a gift from my King," Nenni said, "a surprise. Ivy vines have special meaning to me; the King shows me great kindness in being so thoughtful." Lady Sadronniel's eyes travelled from the hair ornament to the ivy vines marked into her living skin. Her tattoos, which were an unknown practice among their kind, had been the source of some speculation throughout the Palace gossip vine. Not many had seen them, and the Lady was getting as close a view as any had before. But due to protocol, she could not ask the queen about something so personal.

What Lady Sadronniel really could not get past was the Necklace of Girion that blazed in front of her eyes. Her own collar of beautiful diamonds seemed paltry by comparison, and this annoyed her to an extent. She prided herself on being one of the most well-kept ellith in the realm. Nenni decided to change tack, before her head imploded from the pettiness of so much discussion of material things. "I am so new here, Lady Sadronniel. I should very much like to know more about your family, would you tell me?" And so she heard, finding out that the Lady had lost her brother in the Battle of the Five Armies. He had fought bravely, but was felled, trapped in an onslaught of trolls. Nenni unthinkingly placed her hand on the arm of the other elleth. "I am so very sorry, for your loss," she said with sincere compassion. "May the Valar watch over him, until you may be reunited." 

The gesture of touch was not usual, from royalty, and Lady Sadronniel was startled. But the obvious empathy of the queen won her over. Fortunately, right at that time, the meal was concluded. Nenni heard her husband asking the Lady if she would stay or retire. Politely, she indicated to the King that she was tired and would like to leave, but gave her deep appreciation for the invitation. Nenni offered her the gift of fruit and flowers, indicating that Galion could deliver it to their quarters later, if she preferred not carry it with her. Lady Sadronniel looked at the remarkable blossoms, which glowed as brightly as the candlelight. "What blossoms are these, my queen?" the Lady asked, astonished. 

"What their right name is, I do not know" said Nenni. "But they are a reminder of our many blessings, and the promise of a bright future. May they lighten your heart, as they do my own. I am so very pleased to have met you, Lady Sadronniel, and I wish you a good evening." She gave the Lady her best dazzling smile, as she bid her a good night and saw her carry off the gift. 

Nenni rested a moment, out of sight of the others, leaning against a wall. There would be many such encounters to come, and she admired her husband all the more for his centuries of endurance in such matters. It was now her obligation, as well. Elves were of all different kinds, and some were just less enjoyable to be near than others, but all were deserving of care and concern. Taking a deep breath, she summoned the will to learn of trade within the kingdom.

For two solid hours, with Nenni taking notes on parchment,  Lord Sadronniel spoke on the nuances of the flow of trade and supplies. Occasionally, Nenni would ask questions for clarification, and there was a time or two when Thranduil added in an item of importance. The three of them had wine; and altogether, Nenni found this far less tedious and far more informative than discussions of pleats and fabrics. Right about the time she began to develop an uncontrollable twitch under her left eye, there was nothing further to add. She laid her quill down, and stood with Thranduil as he thanked the Lord for his time and bid him good evening. When the door closed, she squeezed Thranduil's arm gently, and returned to her goblet. She drained all the wine remaining in it in two massive gulps, then held her finger over her left eye, trying to encourage the muscle to relax. It showed no sign of cooperating. 

Returning to Thranduil, she thanked him for this learning opportunity. It had truly clarified a great deal for her, and her notes would prove to be a valuable reference. She felt the familiar fingers, tilting her chin up to look at him. He seemed to be trying to assess something. "What is it, my Lord? If I can give you an answer, I will." She felt the large dose of wine rapidly going to her head. Why could she not remember how strong it was?

He did not speak, but leaned down to kiss her. She immediately pressed in close to him, and felt the bulging in his groin. Immediately her own body surged, wishing to respond to him. He laughed, embracing her. "And so you did, meleth."

She reached down to caress his straining erection through his clothing. Earlier she hadn't dared touch him, in his beautiful garments. But now, with his interest made clear, her hands did not wish to keep off of him. The sight of her husband, so regally attired, intoxicated her, as did the sensual play of the rich fabrics beneath her fingertips. He helped her out of her finery, which she carefully placed on a nearby chair.  As she was reaching for the ties on his breeches, she heard him say ,"No, Adonnenniel. You will kneel before me." Her mouth opened in surprise, and the tiniest thrill passed through her. 

This was something new, and she did not know where it would lead. She knelt, looking up at him questioningly. "My Lord?" 

He did not answer her, but instead slowly unlaced his breeches. When his swollen manhood was freed, he looked down on her with an unreadable expression. "You will attend me, now." Bemused, she took him into her mouth, and went to work. Whatever this mood was of his, she could follow directions. He allowed himself a quick release this first time around, after so many hours of watching her and being half unable to focus on the meeting, so strong was his desire for her.  Soon she was swallowing his heated seed, as it surged into her. She greatly enjoyed taking him this way; this afforded a connection to his pleasure in a way she could not experience when he released into the folds of her body. Taking the last of him, she gently relinquished her hold when she could feel that he was finished. He did not look at her. "You will rise, and disrobe me." Again she complied, removing his robe, belt, tunic, boots and finally his breeches. 

"Hand me the belt." The first mild concern crept over her, and she hesitated. Her head was swimming, and it was hard to evaluate how she felt about the direction this might be taking. "Obey me swiftly, Adonnenniel, or I will punish you." A feeling that could only be described as a perfect hybrid of fear and rebellion washed over her. Her reaction was primal, and she bolted. Even as she took her first steps, Nenni knew this was a mistake. There was nothing to buy her the head start she needed, she was wearing dainty slippers, and she was well on her way to being outright drunk; she would never reach the garden, and her only chance at resisting him. So, she stopped, and turned to face him; he was only a single step behind her. Her confusion and disorientation rose by the moment, which was exactly what he intended. 

 _Was he really serious?_ Because if he was, any defiance from her was truly unwise. "I regret my disregard, my Lord." Yet as she was speaking the words, he took both of her wrists and bound them in one of his hands. 

"Too right, Adonnenniel." He reached around and delivered a stinging open-handed spank to her bottom. And with it, he found a new vulnerability. 

Tears welled in her eyes, and she gasped as his hand fell. He sensed that any will to resist him had crumbled. She had been punished in this manner as a child, but something had gone terribly wrong within her on account of it, and she was awash in fear.  Thranduil was astonished, he had not struck her with much force at all. Long ago, she had enjoyed this. He had seen her take the cuts from his sword, without so much as a twinge.  "Please my Lord, pardon me. I will do anything you desire. I beg you, do not raise your hand again." She was struggling not to cry, but her voice was already unsteady. 

He did not release her wrists, but pulled her back against him, sighing. How many little closets would he find in her mind, in which shadows still lingered? He took her head in his free hand, and drove this one off as well. He let her see that she used to enjoy this, and that she had nothing to fear. Staying with her mind, he reached his hand down to tease the folds between her legs, feeling her loins surge with the wanting of him. He entered her from behind, stroking her gently, and gave her a single spank again. This time she groaned, because she felt it heighten her pleasure. He pulled out of her, and marched her back to his clothing. Bringing her to a standstill with his hands on her shoulders, he swiftly disrobed her. "Now. Hand me the belt," he repeated. She obeyed him immediately, her thoughts now a hopeless jumble of arousal and confusion. "Hold out your wrists." His eyes bore into hers. Trembling, she complied with this also. He bound her with the belt, and pulled her toward a metal ring mounted into the wall. She had never seen it used for anything, and it had never occurred to her to ask. Swiftly he hitched the belt to the ring. Reflexively she pulled back against it, which did not escape his attention. "I did not make myself clear?" he asked. She had not meant to pull back. Why was she behaving this way? He spread her legs and entered her again from behind. Nenni now tried to curl her fingers around the ring, to support her as her knees buckled. His powerful arm wrapped around her waist as he plunged into her. He spanked her again and again, and with each blow she felt her need for him increase. He had her groaning nonstop now. And then suddenly, he went perfectly still. 

"No! Please, no!" she cried out, trying to writhe against him. 

"You disobeyed me, twice, Adonnenniel. You must plead for what you want, and perhaps I will show you kindness." He had broken down her defenses, completely. 

A torrent of beseeching came from her. "I beg you, my Lord, my King. Forgive me, do not leave me here like this.  Please, release me." Hearing her words caused him to throb. He had mastered her, as he'd known she wanted. 

He leaned down to her ear and purred, "Then your King will show you mercy." He began to move in her again, this time greatly increasing his tempo. He spanked her and pounded into her until tears rolled down her cheeks from the burning heat that had built inside of her with nowhere to go, and still he did not allow her to climax. Her breath came now in ragged sobs. She could go no further. He swiftly released the belt from the ring, at the same time pulling out of her. In a blur, he turned her to face him, and moved his head under her bound arms, lifting her up against him in one smooth motion. She now straddled him, with her arms around his neck. Swiftly, he entered her again, supporting her body in his arms, pulling her in close to him. His mouth found her parted lips, and his tongue moved inside of her in a deep kiss. Opening his mind to her, he stroked her slowly and powerfully and at last let her come. The scream in her throat found no escape as he kept his mouth locked to hers. Her entire body shuddered and seized in his arms. Unable to endure her walls squeezing down on him, he released himself. Nenni groaned in rapture, as she felt the heat of his seed fill her. And it was then that he caught the most fleeting thought, before she pushed it far down. He immediately shut her out, so that she would not know he had seen this intensely private image. It had only slipped to the surface because of the wine and the intensity of her ecstasy. He held her tightly, almost unable to govern himself. She would create a child with him. The day would come when she would desire a pregnancy. It was in a distant future, but he saw that she already knew. She was waiting, until many other things had been accomplished. He was patient. "I love you, meleth," was all he could manage, as a tear ran down his cheek. He would be a new father once again.

He carried her to the bowl of pain salve, rubbing it into the reddened skin of her buttocks. The stinging and irritation subsided at once. He took her into the pool, feeling his seed flow out from between her spread legs and down his skin. He ducked down from between her arms, so that he could release her wrists from his belt. After some minutes, she felt as though she might be able to form sentences again. 

"My King, what just happened?" 

Thranduil chuckled. "Well, you made the mistake of telling me this morning that it pleased you, to be dominated by me. I granted your wish."

Nenni digested this. "I did say that, didn't I...." she sighed. "That was...." she trailed off. 

"Meleth, I wish to know what happened to you. Why did you react so strongly to the spanking at first?" 

Nenni thought for a moment. The man who raised me, my father, only spanked me a few times. I remember pain, humiliation and feeling powerless. But more than that, I did not understand what the point was. I had done something that he deemed wrong. I could not understand why it was wrong. And you need to realize, he often threatened me. He would tell me he would break every bone in my body if I angered him enough. He was a violent man and I had no reason to not believe he meant it. It was being threatened in this way, with physical harm, that just sort of rolled into a ball of being helpless and terrified. I know you would not do that to me. But in the moment, I did not. I drank too much wine and could not think clearly. Something like that. Thank you, for what you did for me. Twice today. You continue to save me from the mess that was made of my thoughts. I am so very grateful, to have been given to you. I wish...." she trailed off. 

"What, meleth? What do you wish?" 

She hung her head. "I wish I could have been raised by someone like you, instead of.... what happened. I have paid such a high price for it. And even here, on another world, it still reaches out. I am sorry. These thoughts help no one, and are better left unsaid." 

"I did ask, Adonnenniel. There is no shame in your answer. I am here, and I will care for you always. The day will come, when we open the last door in which a shadow still hides in your mind. Of that, I am certain." She did not answer, but held him tightly for some moments. 

Leaving the water, he said, "I must ask, in preparation for tomorrow, you are certain you require nothing more for your plans but lengths of  line?" 

"My thinking was to ride, identify practical sites, and perhaps even set some traps on the paths. I believe that I can cause the vegetation at hand to grow into the shapes that I will need. I believe birch trees, or something like them, will be the most useful. I fear to set very many traps because of the risk to an innocent animal or...being. But if whip traps exist at known places, any patrol can set them for an ambush and later ensure they are not able to harm unintended targets. There were many in-ground traps used in one of the wars on Earth, by jungle fighters that made heavy use of tunnels and every kind of pitfall imaginable. But they take far more time to create, and they are...very cruel. You can tell me what is best as the day unfolds; I will withhold nothing by way of ideas from you."

"We will take provision; enough for tomorrow as well as some extra just in case. We go out equipped for fighting. While I sincerely hope our time is uneventful, recent events make that seem questionable. You have earned the right to fight, under my supervision, should the need arise. I will be teaching you to listen to the forest, how to look for danger before it can find you. You did well at this, the time you hid in the tree; you paid attention and left the path for a sheltered location without my prompting." 

This information neither excited or intimidated her. "Yes, my Lord" was the extent of her thinking on the matter. That alone pleased him greatly. 

"The armor I had made for Beren is ready. From now on he will go out with some protection. It is made to blend with his natural camouflage, and to protect his neck and chest. While I do not doubt the blessings of the Valar upon him, I have no wish to see him suffer needless injury.  This was a long and full day for you, we will retire soon. You must have enough rest." Nenni privately wondered what his military briefings before a real battle must sound like. His mental organization was impressive. "I fear you will one day find out, meleth. It is my duty to think of everything. There is great detail, and pity the one who is not paying close attention when I speak." His words were stern, but his expression was kind. 

She found her nightclothes, a warm tunic and loose leggings. Beren was already passed out, snoring. Galion had fed him discreetly just before their guests arrived. Thranduil wore nothing to bed, after having snuffed out all but one last candle. Climbing in next to him, she was pulled nearer, and complied by raising her knee very high, looping her leg over his waist. This left the other half of her body in full contact with his as she laid on her side. Some truly odd positioning of her arms completed the position. Not for the last time, he wondered how these contortions of hers were comfortable, but she seemed content. "Did you enjoy your time with Lady Sadronniel?" he asked, in his best level tone. 

Her reply was carefully considered. "I would trade five lashes from your belt to never have to do that again, but I understand that it is an unavoidable obligation. I believe she had an enjoyable experience; I gave it my best for you." 

His sonorous laugh vibrated through her body. "You will have to forgive me, meleth. I used you tonight, a bit. I could not help myself." 

"I do not understand," Nenni said, squirming to find new ways to have more of her in contact with his body. 

"As I am sure you noticed; she is beautiful, and shallow to match. I knew that your necklace would send her into spirals of envy; she has never seen it before. Lord Sadronniel will now spend the better part of the next year chasing down emeralds for her. I admit, it was petty of me, but I did so enjoy the look on her face. If she ever caught sight of my vault I believe she would perish." 

"You have vaults here? Are they like the ones at Gringotts?" she asked. He laughed. "No, there are no Goblins nor wild rides on carts through massive caverns. But I have long collected gems, and they must be somewhere. Did you have no jewels, on Earth?" 

"There were jewels on Earth; I have seen the ones that belonged to royalty and the very wealthy. Some of these are kept where many can come and view them. I personally only owned a few small items. Maybe five diamonds, earrings that held little emeralds, rubies, or sapphires. I had a very pretty opal ring, and a special pair of green garnets. But these were not large stones, mostly for earrings. I did not often wear jewelry after I began with the farm, there was always a risk of loss or damage. The metal on Earth equivalent to the silver steel here was called platinum. It was very costly and not so shiny, and I had a thin circlet that was my grandmother's wedding ring. I would often wear this, as it was indestructible. I had tastes that I could not afford. I only liked real gold and gems, and someone like me could not pay that kind of money. The few nice things I had were enough. The gifts you have given surpass anything I could have hoped to own; the Necklace of Girion would have been among the crown jewels of a Queen on Earth."

"But you enjoy to look on them?" 

Nenni laughed. "Who does not? They are beautiful. I used to call them 'sparkly stuff'. I think it must be the way they can catch and bend the light, and the colors. They are cheerful, and the raw materials of great artistry. But they cannot be eaten, and they do not give love, nor companionship. I try to keep it in perspective. I daydreamed on Earth, how nice it would be if very beautiful jewelry was simply given out. Someone might wear a piece for a few weeks, and then pass it along to another for enjoyment. Let everyone feel beautiful, for awhile. But it would not have been possible. Too many are greedy, and would never consent to share. Oh well, it matters not." 

"I would enjoy to show you my sparkly stuff, meleth, when there is time." This caused her to melt into hysterics. 

"You cannot expect me to go to sleep if you are going to to keep me laughing, husband. This is going to be hopeless."

"Come on then, I will show you now. It is not far." 

 _You have got to be kidding me_ , she thought. But he looked so happy and eager, and she was now as awake as ever. She did not have the heart to refuse, and it would likely be something pretty to see. "As you wish, my Lord. Will you be wandering the halls thus attired?" she asked, smiling. 

"Go, put on a robe, before I decide to spank you for insubordination." She laughed again, unsure she had ever seen him in such a fine humor, and did as he bid, slipping her feet into a pair of warm socks. He had wrapped himself in a silk robe, and he lifted her into his arms, heading out the back passageway. Turning down yet more corridors she did not know, he passed a single guard, who snapped to attention as he passed. She heard him in her mind, _I love to appear here at random times. The look on their faces if one of them is caught unawares is priceless._

 _You are terrible,_ she returned, laughing, _how fortunate I am, to escape such trials in your service._

He said nothing, but gave her a wide eyed look that she understood. She had had her own trials, in his service, and he was all too aware of them. 

Finally they halted at a plain enough looking door, to which he produced a key. It was unremarkable, save for being extremely heavily built. In a moment, they were inside, and he set her down. This was a large section of cavern, larger than many houses she'd seen on Earth. And there was treasure absolutely everywhere. Some gold, some objects made of precious metals, endless stacks of coins, and the colors of myriad gemstones. Gems of every shape, description and size, boxes upon overflowing boxes. Looking around slowly, she turned back to him. "All this is yours?" she asked. He nodded, grinning. What she wanted to ask was what dragon he'd done away with, in order to amass so much, but that seemed unkind, so she stuffed that one down deep. He heard it, but said nothing, because she had a point. "Erm, you have been very busy", she said, smiling. "I may look more closely?" 

"Of course, meleth." 

Nenni went to a pile of what she would call diamonds. "Thranduil, are these diamonds?" she asked, holding one and trying to see if it reflected the light spectrum. 

"I do not know that word," he replied. "They are what we call gems of starlight. They are my favorite." 

She frowned. "If you take them into bright sunlight, do they reflect the light into different colors?" 

"Yes."  

"And they are very hard, it is nearly impossible to damage them, and they are mined from places where a volcano once tore at the land?"

"Yes." 

"They seem to be the same thing. We had a song about them, on Earth", she smiled, recalling "Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend."  She offered her hand to him, continuing to walk around, occasionally picking up something or other to look at it more closely. "Do you have any opals?" she asked.  

"This word I also do not know. Can you show me?" She brought up images of the fiery, multicolored gems. 

"Yes, over here." He led her to a box, where she was confronted by some of the finest fire opals she had ever seen. 

"May I touch them?" she asked, looking to him for permission. He noticed that her hand did not so much as twitch in their direction until he nodded his assent. "Thank you," she said. "I will be careful, I know they can be broken if handled carelessly." On account of this, she never moved her hands from more than a few inches over where they rested. She wanted to see the light change in them, tilting them this way and that. 

He could see that these were what commanded her attention above all others; he would not have guessed. "Why do you like these so much, meleth?", he asked. 

She smiled. "In my world there was a gemstone assigned to each of the twelve months of the calendar. The gem for the month of one's birth was a birthstone. I was born in October, so opals are my birthstone. I never even saw one until I was who knows how many years old. My one nice ring was opal, or however they are called here. A little like the colors of this stone here," she said, pointing, "but a fraction of the size. But they were a problem. I hardly could ever wear the ring. 'Don't hit the stone on anything, don't place it in warm water or it will crack.' They seem to belong...under a glass case....more than out in the real world. She carefully returned the stone to its place. "Please show me what in here you like best?" 

All this time, he carefully read her mind and heart. He saw that she genuinely would not think to ask for even the tiniest gem in this room; she had not looked on a single thing and began to wonder or plan how she might have it from him. What little he had already given her was beyond her wildest imagination, and the sight of all that was before her did not change her gratitude.  In her mind, he was a mighty King and these were his rightful possessions, and she wanted nothing more. He would gladly give her all of it, too. Another facet of his heart melted toward her. He reached down to kiss her, deeply. She giggled. "That is not what I meant, my Lord. You flatter me too much." 

He was puzzled for a moment, but then pieced together what she'd asked of him with his actions, and made a swift recovery. "I will be the judge of that," he said. Her cheeks tinged with pink at his compliment. She felt loved, and happy. 

He obliged her, showing her many minerals and gems. It was like a natural history museum display, in a private collection. After a time, she could absorb no more. What he gained from all her reactions was that after the opals, she indeed liked emeralds best.  Especially when paired with diamonds, which was why his gifts to her had been so much appreciated. He had seen her look many times at her wedding rings, which she loved above all other things. At the time he'd had no idea, but she truly liked them as jewelry, and not only because of what they symbolized. He found another thing he'd not known, which was that her favorite colors were purple and orange, because she would often plant flowers together of such colors. He caught her yawning. "Bed, meleth," he said. 

She reached her arms to him endearingly, suddenly so very sleepy. _Thank you, Thranduil. Everything was so very beautiful._ He saw that his wife was now fast asleep. His real treasure was in his arms, and he knew it. Back in bed he fell into an untroubled sleep, concocting in his mind what he wished to give her next.


	13. Yrch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rhiw 6, Imladris. November 29, Gregorian. A league in Middle Earth is basically three miles. Yrch is the Sindarin plural of "Orc"]. Edited, version 2.0

Thranduil woke Nenni at dawn. She had not stirred all through the night in his arms. Considering this, and the prospect of another long day today, tomorrow needed to be less scheduled. Ruefully, he scolded himself; he must do a better job of understanding her limits and not overtaxing her. His wife had taken on a great deal, and her willing heart made it too easy for him to forget that she could not match him in every way. If he did not pay more heed, she would suffer for it. And today, even if no attacks befell them, their plans likely included an expenditure of her power for modifying the landscapes. 

"I am sorry to wake you, meleth, but we must prepare to leave. We have one hour." She struggled to try and sit up, and flopped back down. He followed a titanic struggle in her mind between ' _five more minutes'_ and _'you asked for this, get your arse out of this bed.'_ The King was mightily amused, and concerned, all at the same time. Clearly she was not rested enough, but there was little else for it. The latter won out. Under no circumstances, short of incapacitation, would she allow herself to disappoint him. She found a cloth and scrubbed at her face with some warm water. _May I comb out my own hair, my Lord?_   he heard. 

 _You may not_ , he replied. _Sit._ He knew she would need her hair in braids today, and that she could not possibly successfully manage them in her current state. He swiftly cared for this, dismayed that within a minute she was sound asleep in the chair. He should not have kept her up last night; this was his fault. For the few moments she was left slumbering, wakened again when he was finished. 

"I'm awake, I was just resting my eyes ,"  she said. It was a humorous lie learned from her grandfather, that sounded as good as anything else right now. She went to the sideboard immediately for tea, forcing herself to drink it swiftly in the hopes that it would revive her. He had seen enough. Though it was usually used for over-imbibing,  it had just become time for  _miruvor_.  

He brought her the flask. "Drink, meleth", he told her. Nenni had long stopped asking what anything he gave her actually was; she trusted him implicitly. Downing it, she swiftly began to feel strengthened. _This stuff is better than a double espresso_ she thought, still shaking off grogginess and struggling to focus. _Dress warmly. Armor. Blades. Eat something. Beren._ As she worked on the first item of the list, she kept trying to think, whether she had forgotten anything important. _Line_ , she thought. _Verify who is bringing line_. She made it into her armor, but after struggling against the sword harness over her cloak for a full minute, her irritation with her own incompetence was escalating. _Fuck this shit_ , she thought. 

Thranduil's eyebrows shot straight up, across the room. He recognized this as some of the coarsest possible language from Earth, which he had never heard from her before, but said nothing.  His wife came to him, asking quietly, "Would you please help me, my Lord? I cannot seem to manage the harness." 

He would not berate her for her unguarded thoughts at a time like this. It would be wholly unfair. And he secretly had to admit, the contrast between what was in her head and what came out of her mouth was really quite funny at times, though he could not allow himself to show it. "Of course, meleth", he said kindly. Swiftly caring for the problem, he released her. Knives were unceremoniously crammed into boots. 

She sat to eat some fruit and cheese, and then woke Beren. Who was not terribly interested in being awake. "Beren, we have to git 'um now. Git 'um, Buddy. And you can have a slice of bread." Gaining interest, the great dog shook himself awake. She gave him the bread, as promised. He drank water, stretched several times, and shook himself. He sat, leaning next to her with his long ears sagging. Thranduil saw the pair of them, groggy and both wishing to return to sleep, and was completely fascinated. Clearly, each had rubbed off somewhat on the other, in their time together.

"My Lord, is Beren's equipment somewhere close at hand, or do I concern myself with that on the way out?" 

"The latter," the King said. He was already fully prepared, looking regal and alert. 

Nenni sighed. _You cannot match him_ , she told herself. _Just appreciate him_. She rubbed her eyes, thinking it might be finally making a difference. _Why am I so tired?_

Thranduil rolled his eyes. She'd no idea, how much she was doing. He had made one decision, though. Unbeknownst, he had a well-trained horse that was to be his gift to her. But today was not to be the day. She would need what strength she had, and to ask her to travel out on a new mount in her current state was preposterous. He would take her on the elk, where he could care for her.  "It is time, meleth" he said, offering her his arm. 

"Thank you," she replied, glad to not have to think past placing one foot in front of the other. The King took packed saddlebags from the kitchen worker that waited for him in the passage out. Beren's armor was prepared, as well. 

Out of courtesy, Thranduil asked Nenni, "would you allow me to equip him, Adonnenniel?" 

"Of course, my Lord," as she offered to hold the saddlebags.   _Beren will sleep for three days afterward_ , she thought. _And I may not be far behind_. Her inability to sharpen up dismayed; it was unlike her. Even through all the long weeks of overworking in the garden, she had managed better than this. Though, she neglected to recall that  a two hour nap had been a feature of each of those days. _I will come around._

Legolas met them at exactly the appointed time. Nenni's heart swelled with gladness and unthinkingly, she reached to hug him. "Nenni, Adar" Legolas said, smiling, returning her embrace. Legolas saw how much she cared for him, and found it touching. Looking at his father, he saw the same happiness. Thranduil now had far more than an inkling of what he was seeing in her, but said nothing. 

It was very chilly out, for winter had arrived, at least by the calendar. He whistled long and low for the great Rhovanion elk, which waited nearby. Attendants had its harness at the ready, and the King swiftly set  matters in order after greeting the animal. Nenni watched Thranduil touch his cheek to the muzzle of the enormous animal and blinked back a tear. Every day she loved her husband more than the one previous. She did not see that Legolas watched her, and smiled. There were not words for the relief in his heart, that his father's endless grief and loneliness were at last at an end. Nenni recovered her senses enough to remember to ask, that someone had the measures of line? Legolas had several lengths, already packed into Féla's saddlebags. Thranduil vaulted up to the back of the elk. "Give me your right hand, Adonnenniel," he instructed. In one smooth motion, she was seated and held in front of him. Beren bayed with anticipation. A double patrol stood at the ready, with instructions to follow, at a delay of twenty minutes. "Legolas, have you given thought to which path we will ride today?"

"Yes, Adar. Though Dol Guldur lies to the southeast, most of our orc encounters seem to be placed nearer the Forest River. It is just as likely they come from Gundabad, in my eyes. I believe the river road is as good as any, for a place to begin."

Thranduil spoke to Nenni. "You understand, meleth, each of these roads is longer than sixty leagues. If we make good time, we can expect to survey seven leagues before needing to return." 

"Yes, my King. I studied the maps. Your realm is....vast. Please inform me at what distance from the Palace it is worth assessing the terrain for possible trapping or ambush locations." 

They set off at a trot, to give the animals time to warm up. Thranduil leaned down to speak to her. "Meleth, there is awhile before you are needed. If you wish to rest, do so now. Lean back against me, I have you." 

Her pride ran up against her common sense. As much as she hated to show weakness, she would be a fool not to take any advantage to help her do well today. _Thank you, my Lord, I am grateful._ She found that the swords that crossed her back fit perfectly under the shoulder muscles that were usually sore. To her delight, it was no discomfort at all to lean into them. She felt the King's arm wrap around her. Reaching up her hand, she closed her fingers lightly around his forearm, and was soon fast asleep as the elk paced along smoothly. Legolas, seeing this, smiled.  

Moving in close to his son, Thranduil spoke softly. "Do not think less of her, Legolas. Her husband has been piling duties and obligations on her, failing to ensure she is taking adequate rest. It is something that he intends to rectify, very soon." 

"I do not, Ada; I think very highly of her. Tauriel has told me of her training, and how well she is progressing. I can only imagine how much she is exerting herself, to match her body to your skill level. She has not even been among us for four moons, and to hear of even half of what she does..."

His son's words caught Thranduil off guard. _Not even four months_...he had lost sight of this. And arguably, her real life here had begun a month into that time, as her body finished battling through a difficult physical transformation. When he added in her physical and mental ordeals, it was honestly a marvel she was standing upright. He sighed. "I will waken her at the two league marker, Legolas." They rode on in silence as Beren crisscrossed the path in front of them, his nose to the ground in his long hunting stride. The marker came up all too soon, and the King gently went into her mind to wake her.   _It is time to come back, Adonnenniel_ , she heard. 

Her eyes opening, she sat up straight. _My heartfelt thanks for your kindness, my Lord. I feel much better now._ He released her upper body but kept a hand at her hips, as a precaution. She stretched her back and settled into a riding posture, now scanning the terrain. _Does an abundance of birch trees continue all along our path? If not, I should take a cutting before we pass their habitat._

_It does continue. But just to be certain..._

His right hand lefther hip, and heard the singing of steel as he expertly cut and caught a sprig of beech, which he offered. Being suitably impressed did not dissuade her from teasing him. _Show off._ Though she kept looking, nothing seemed suitable until they had travelled three and a half leagues. They entered a clearing, already densely surrounded, that had a bowl-like shape to it..  The path was narrowed by overgrown brush at both the entrance and exit. She raised her hand at the elbow. _This,_ she said. _This will work._  

Thranduil instructed Beren:  _We will be here for some time; ensure there are no Orcs nearby. Should you find any, hurry back silently to us._

The Kingnodded, when queried silently for permission to dismount. By tacit agreement, they did not speak aloud without reason. Nenni saw an abundance of vines at the base of all surrounding trees, and decided to commence her work at the path that led into the clearing from the opposite direction. Using the existing birch, she rapidly grew more saplings into an thick concentration of trees lining the path. The road was now constricted here, to only ten feet wide. The undergrowth beyond also increased, so that the only way to proceed, short of razing all the vegetation, was through her passage. _At least I remembered to check the spread of the elk's antlers_ , flitted between her ears by way of personal smugness. Her alterations in this manner, for a distance of thirty feet. Turning her attention to the clearing itself, she paused. Already, she could feel herself beginning to weaken. 

 _My Lord, I have an idea I wish to try, with your consent. Would you come to me?_ Thranduil approached, taking her offered hand. _If you would join your mind to my own while I work, it may be possible that I can draw on your strength for what I am doing? Otherwise I will be depleted too soon. This is only one clearing. Perhaps with you, I can have enough to manage more afterward._ She felt him inside of her mind, and felt his own mind. _Closer. Move behind me, hold my body. Place your hand at my head._ When he was in position, she raised her hands. Ivy began to surge up all around the clearing, wrapping and entangling the trunks of the trees. The snaking vines thickened and tightened, until the clearing was now a walled pen that could be breached only with great effort.

Legolas, watching this happen in silence except for the rustling of the vines, was astounded. His military mind could see how this might work, and very well at that. He sprang up the vines and into the canopy of the trees, assessing where archers might position themselves.

Nenni could feel the success; Thranduil was indeed able to help her in this way. Satisfied that nothing larger than a fox could escape this place, she stopped. _You must not let me deplete you more than is safe, Thranduil. You must tell me when you even think you notice a slight fatigue. We have time, to do all this work. I cannot feel what I am taking from you._

He smiled. _Do not worry, meleth._ _I have strength enough for both of us._

_You must promise me, Thranduil. You have not felt what this does; it is a delayed reaction, a trap. Once you are actually tired, you will be all but incapacitated in a matter of minutes. I know you have strength far beyond my own, but you cannot test yourself against this. Not when we lack full understanding of how this works between us together, and our well being might depend on it. If I become drained, it falls all to you to and Legolas. Please, I need your word._

He realized she was in earnest and her logic was sound. _You have my promise, Adonnenniel._

Legolas dropped down, quietly pointing out locations to them that, if better obscured, would allow archers to position themselves unseen. Nenni raised her hands, and thicker blankets of the moss that grew everywhere in the treetops descended in curtains. Placing the twig the King had given her at her feet, she grew up a miniature version of her trap, only a foot long, and complete with branches that terminated in spikes. She pulled it back to show them what it did when released, then gestured her question. _Where should these be in a place like this, to be of the most use, if anywhere? and what about the opposite entrance to the clearing?_

Thranduil instructed her to duplicate the work on the other entrance. He gave what he could, yet her strength energy dwindled. The King's strength helped, but could not stop the steady erosion of her vigor. After consulting with Legolas, they determined that one larger trap, right in the middle of the clearing path, would be suitable. More than one, and the place could also become deadly to those conducting the ambush. "Here," the Prince indicated.

Nenni coaxed up the miniature trap from the humus and carried it to where it needed to go. A young sapling sprang into being, about seventeen feet in length, with roots anchored deeply into the soil. Only, she forced it to grow sideways. Branches on one side grew to deadly spiked tips, but the appearance of this was obscured by a profusion of twigs. Next she set in and grew the saplings that would control the tripwire. Legolas brought out the length of line, and paid it out around the infant trees being used for this purpose. When all was ready, she showed the two strong ellyn how to bend back the tree, while she tailed the line to the trigger. Turns of the line around the smaller saplings gave her the mechanical advantage to easily control the tensile strength, and she tied  it into the trigger assembly. Next she strung the tripline, and attached it to the small stick that functioned as the trigger. The thin gray cord woven by the elves was impossible to see, amidst the fallen leaves and mosses. Going back to Thranduil for strength, for good measure she grew up masses of ivy vines through the clearing, with gratuitous mosses and some undergrowth, in order to obscure that anything was out of the ordinary. 

The work almost finished, Nenni became aware that the forest had grown very quiet; bird and insect sounds had ceased. Suddenly, a magpie alighted on the shoulder of the King, bobbing as he spoke with it in his own way.  Moments later, Beren appeared in the clearing, quietly whining. Thranduil warned Beren immediately of the trap, and that he must come with them to exit. Nenni saw Thranduil draw his sword and followed his lead. He informed her with his mind, and Legolas with signs they both understood. It was a pack of twenty Orcs,  perhaps ten minutes from their location, heading this way. She blinked and shook her head in disbelief that this was happening yet again, though, there was something to be said for the timing. 

The King issued swift instructions. Legolas would take to the trees above. Nenni would stay at the passage opposite the Orc approach, as a lure of sorts; the pack would move swiftly against a lone slender elf, as opposed to the caution they would display if they saw the Elvenking. Beren would remain hidden behind his mistress, to attack once the Orc were in the clearing. Nenni was to kill any Orc attempting to leave her side of the clearing by any means necessary, and Thranduil would hem them in from behind. No one was to engage them until the whip trap was sprung, which they'd not yet had time to even test. Nenni raised her hood and pulled her cloak around her, to obscure both her gender and her armaments, and stood with her blade extended behind her, out of sight. She asked Beren to lie down. He sank down, invisible against the fallen leaves and mosses, already salivating in excited anticipation of a kill.

At last they came. When the first Orc sighted her, she pretended fear; holding out her arm as if to ward them off while she slowly backed away toward the passage. A chorus of snarls went up from them, at seeing such easy quarry.  By the time they were arriving at the tripwire, her position was secure at the passage entrance. Answering her hopes, they had fanned out a bit, so that several of them were more or less abreast. And then one of their heavy boots sprang the trap. In the blink of an eye and with a sickening snap, seven of them were impaled as the sapling unwound into their chests with hundreds of pounds of force. Their light armor was no match for the speed at which the spikes were moving. Immediately, Legolas was bringing them down with arrows, and Thranduil was cutting them down from the rear. Three of them broke away, coming at her. "Beren, git 'um, take the archer", she said, swiftly drawing a knife and hurling it deep into the archer's unprotected thigh. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Beren launch to seize the orc's throat in his mighty jaws. Focused on what was in front of her, she held her blade out at a funny angle as the two advanced, behaving as though she were inexperienced, to bring them in. They both had shorter swords. The first one lurched at her and like a strike of lightning she moved inside his inadequate defenses to slice his throat open, swiftly backing away. Eyes glittering with hate revealed the last one now knew she was no scared rabbit, but he never had time to do more. He fell dead at her feet, an arrow in the back of his skull. There was no sound except Beren's growling and his vicious shaking of the long dead Orc. 

  
"Beren, leave it. Good boy. You killed it," she said softly, kissing his nose in spite of the lingering gore around his mouth. "Go up the track, a short distance, and check if there are any more. If there are, run here to tell us. We will no longer have a surprise." Taking nothing for granted, she looked for any sign of movement among those in the clearing. One of those impaled by the tree was not yet dead, but it assuredly was after she decapitated it. Legolas dropped down from the trees, looking at her and then his father with a smile and one raised eyebrow.  Both ellyn approved of what they saw; she had obeyed her orders impeccably, and her focus was complete. Nenni held herself well, but she was flagging. Her knife and sword she wiped clean on some of the moss, and sheathed them. _Without cutting her fingers_ , she thought proudly. Beren returned, confirming that nothing else was coming. Thranduil went to Nenni, and laid his hand on her shoulder in pride and affirmation. Looking beyond her pleased expression, he perceived she had given all she reasonably could for the day. 

"Go to the elk, meleth, and wait for me."

Waiting a moment, he quietly finished speaking to his son. "I must return with her, Legolas. Her strength for the day is gone, by what she has done here. A patrol is on its way. This," he gestured all around with distaste,"must be removed and burnt. I believe we should not reset the trap, and leave it to seem as though nothing transpired here. Do you concur?"

"I do, Ada. And I fully see the usefulness of this idea. From whence the Orcs come, I still do not know, but this worked as well as anyone could hope for an ambush. We had minimal risk." 

"Then remove the lines. We only need to identify the next such suitable location, and we can return with her at another time, to do more."

"It will be done, Adar." Legolas was about to extend the traditional gesture of parting to his father, but hesitated. He opened his arms to Thranduil, uncertain of the response. 

Swiftly, his father embraced him. "Ionneg," he said, smiling, as he released him. "We shall set another outing, soon."  Legolas smiled, as he watched his father retreat. Looking in disgust at the filth at his feet, he began collecting their foul weapons for disposal.

Nenni leaned into the animal's warm fur, weakening. "Can you mount in the same way as earlier, meleth?" he asked. 

"I believe so," she smiled at him. In a moment, he had her in front of him again. "Thranduil, I am sorry, I am so tired," she told him. 

He made a soothing sound, yet one that spoke of disagreeing with her. "Meleth. You did well today, and I am proud of you. Rest now; I have you, and soon we will be home." She leaned back against him, once again. It felt vaguely absurd; to be outfitted for fighting, yet having naptime. 

_And yet I am in no position to argue..._

The chill of the day was increasing and the scent of the air changed; likely a storm was coming. With over three leagues to cover, he wished to make good speed. He asked the elk to move on on a trot, and run when it could. About a league down the track, they encountered the patrol following them. Thranduil swiftly issued commands, and warned them to make haste, in view of the weather. "I am to be personally notified of your safe return to the Halls," he demanded. They then departed, amid nods of acknowledgement.

 Thranduil took his own cloak, and wrapped it around Nenni. Though the heat from the elk rose to warm her, he wanted to ensure she was not chilled. He held her tightly to him, as the smooth- paced animal ate up the miles. Lulled, she slept in his strong arms. It was not yet early afternoon, when they returned. He dismounted with her, still slumbering, and bid the attendants to unharness the elk and reward it with extra  hay. He thanked his friend, for bringing them home safely and swiftly. He carried his exhausted queen to their chambers, with Beren languidly walking alongside. One buckle at a time, he removed her armaments, and ignited a fire in the hearth. As it blazed to life, the first snowflakes began to fall. He recalled that she had eaten next to nothing in the morning, and weighed the wisdom of waking her to eat. His fingers searched out  her body around her ribs; she could be better fleshed. Adonnenniel did eat at mealtimes, but her appetite decreased as her activity increased. He decided to let her sleep on, as he wished to attend to a few matters. 

Groggily, she rubbed at her eyes, waking not many minutes after he departed. "Thranduil?" her call rang in the chamber. Beren alone was her companion. Immediately she rose to check on her dog. She dipped a towel in the pool, to clean his face off with the warm water. From long experience she knew that though it might not be easy to see, he would have blood in his fur. He grunted in contentment. When she was done, she gave him a slice of bread. "What a good boy," she crooned, "killing it, like you did." His tail thumped. "Get in bed, Beren, you deserve a nice sleep." He jumped on the bed and stretched out, sighing. Petting him, Nenni rose to see the snow falling. "Oh!" she said, delighted. Pulling on her cloak, and finding a heavy blanket in which to wrap herself, she went out to sit on the balcony, watching the flakes fall. The dead silence that accompanied snowfall washed over her senses and her lips parted in a happy smile. Thranduil returned and did not see her, but he heard her soon enough. Softly, song began.

_In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,  Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;  Snow had fallen, snow on snow,  In the bleak midwinter, long ago._

She was outside, in the cold; the last place he wished her to be. He almost stormed out to pull her in, but the melody made him pause. It was haunting and lovely, and she did not sing for long. When she was finished, he opened the balcony door. Seeing that she was well covered, he calmed himself. "Meleth, I wish for you to come in from the cold." His voice was stern but not unkind. 

Her hand reached to him. "Please, my Lord, may I stay just a few more minutes?" Thranduil could not withstand the yearning in her voice. Sighing, he sat next to her while her fingers laced into his, looking out as they sat in silence. Adonnenniel was recalling another place, in the snow. In her mind he saw woods, and a warmly lit house. It was the same dwelling he had seen in her dreams, once.

Nenni knew her feet were getting cold. "I will go in now," she said. "Thank you, for the extra time." He seated her in front of the fire, removing her boots. Retrieving a plate of food from the sideboard, he placed it on the small table next to her. Sitting opposite, and taking her feet into his lap, he began to rub them for her. The warmth from his hands caused her to moan with pleasure.  

"Tell me about this place in the snow, meleth; the place you were thinking about when you sat outside." She smiled. "You don't miss much, do you?" she teased. "It belonged to a friend, an aged woman who was the first to teach me to sing. Michael and I would travel there often. It was at the base of a mountain, surrounded by meadows and trees. At any time of the year, it was a lovely place. But in winter, it was more so, at least for me. Where I lived on Earth, it was not a place that ever saw snow. So it was really only in our visits to her, that I could ever enjoy the experience of real winter. I love to watch snow fall, and listen to the silence. Beren loved it there, too. His feet are webbed, and he could walk on the top of the snow as if it were solid ground." 

"Any elf can do that, meleth" he teased. She frowned. 

"Well Edain cannot, and it is a trial to traverse deep snow." He chose that moment to apply perfect pressure to the most sensitive parts of her feet, eliciting another moan. She reached for the plate of food, and began eating, which pleased him. "Will the snow become deep here, Thranduil? What is the winter like?"

"The drifts will become tall, if it is an ordinary year. The forest paths will become difficult, sometimes impassible. It is entirely possible that today was our last opportunity to venture out so far, until the springtime. One can never say, for certain."

"Then I can make snow sculptures here," she said, her eyes shining. "it has been so many years." He did not know precisely what snow sculptures were, but had a feeling he would find out soon enough. She continued to eat. "My feet are warm now, thank you." There was a strange edge to her words. 

"You wish me to stop?" he asked. 

"No, I..." she looked down. 

Now he understood. "You wish to inform me that I may now find better things to do with my time, than attend to you?" 

"Forgive me, Thranduil. I did not think, before I spoke. If it pleases you, carry on until springtime." Looking up at him, there was apology in her eyes for her error. 

"I do not mean to be so hard on you, meleth. But I will not rest, until I am convinced that you accept your own worth."

She smiled. "I know. And I am grateful. Some habits are difficult to break. But even had I come to you with my self-esteem entirely intact, I would think it might be hard for anyone to adjust to having a King pay her such attention. I do not forget who you are, and it is still hard to believe that I belong here. You must remember that not four months ago I lived the life of a very ordinary, common person."

Thranduil did not like what he heard. "If you do not forget who I am," he said with authority, "then you know that I will have it my own way. There is little point in resisting me, Adonnenniel." 

Her expression showed surprise and a little hurt. Silent for some minutes, she was trying to work out his words into something her mind could grasp.  After long minutes of reflection, she saw that the logical outcome of her overdeveloped sense of modesty _did_ amount to resistance. Her need to cling to a deeply held belief of being undeserving of him clashed with his desire for her to accept her own value. This perspective has not occurred to her. 

She raised her eyes again. "I...did not understand. Please accept my apology. I did not mean to oppose you."

He chose that exact moment to rub between her toes in a way that caused her leg to arch. She felt embarrassed, biting her lip. It had become a serious conversation and yet the feel of his hands on her feet was overwhelmingly enjoyable. 

"Apology accepted." His voice softened. "Meleth, I know your struggles, and I see your heart. You have conquered so much, since coming here. It is not my desire to berate you for every shortcoming. I do not tell you enough how much I love you, how I could not hope to have a more loving, willing, and intelligent wife. Your every thought is for my well being and happiness, and you manage well with my often difficult temperament. I do not ask you to be perfect. I challenge your thinking in this matter, because it is the only way I know how to help you. You deserve to be whole and healed. I do not demand it for myself, but for you. If my being your King is one more thing I can use to aid you, then use it I will."

Nenni could not form a real response to this, so she nodded. "Thank you," she whispered. He once more worked her feet expertly, eliciting another moan. "You are very good at this," she said. "I appreciate it, very much." 

"You are welcome, Adonnenniel. I know that you are still tired. Could you sleep more?" He felt her hesitation. She was enjoying his ministrations more than the idea of sleep. "Truthfully, yes, but...this feels so good." 

"Well then, I might have a solution to that. But first, could you eat more?" 

Shaking her head, she said "I am no longer hungry, thank you."

He added more wood to the fire and then undressed, before disrobing her. Bringing her into bed, he drew the covers over them, wrapping her in his warmth. He loved her tenderly; counting on her release to tip her into sleep. Though he had no need of more rest, he held her until she began to wake some hours later. 

Thranduil saw her dream, of being in a copse of trees, at night. Beren would not come to her when she called. Stumbling into the woods to retrieve him, she became disoriented. The footing was treacherous, and she could not find her way out in the dark. The stars were veiled, keeping her from orienting herself. She was tired, and dismayed, when the dream lost its hold on her. Her eyes were closed, and her hands clung to Thranduil tightly. She did not know where she was, but she knew he was near. "I am here, meleth," he reassured her. 

 _I do not know which way to go_ , she thought, her mind still lost in the trees. 

"You are safe with me," he whispered. Breathing deeply, she returned to sleep, for a time. 

The day was almost gone, when she woke. What had begun as falling snow was now a whirling storm. The wind blew against the stone walls and glass windows. Nenni propped herself up with one arm, rubbing her eyes. Thranduil had laid out warmer clothes for her. Before she had fully awakened, he pulled her from the covers and whisked her into the warmth of the pool, pausing on the way to secure her hair to keep it dry. "I feel as though you have spoiled me this entire day, my Lord. I am very blessed."

"How interesting", he said, turning it around on her. "I feel as though I have planned far too much work for you and not enough rest of late, and that you gave all you had in order to engineer the demise of twenty enemies of my Kingdom this morning." 

Nenni looked into his eyes with an innocently blank expression, from her perch on his lap. "I did not say, my Lord, that I found it other than a fair trade." 

His eyebrows raised. "You do not bargain well, Adonnenniel. You could have had so much more." 

She would not be outdone, firing back with a tone of cautionary mischief. "So my Lord wishes me to be greedy?" 

His eyebrows raised yet another notch. "Meleth, you may try to bluff, but we both know you do not have it in you." 

She would not relent. "There are many kinds of greed, my Lord. You did not answer the question." 

His eyes narrowed, sensing a trap. Becoming suddenly reflective, his voice softened. "I would not have you be greedy, Adonnenniel. But I do wish that you would ask me for more." Hearing the honesty in his words, she abandoned her teasing, and thought awhile.

"I have always sought to be content with having what I need, not filling my mind with things to want. Material possessions matter little; in the end, in that they do not provide love or sustenance. You gift me often, with things that are beautiful and useful, and I am filled with appreciation for your kindness. Yet, I believe I understand what it is you want of me." She paused. "There is something I would like to have, but I do not know what it is, exactly. I miss having musical instruments to play. But I cannot ask you for one, when I do not know what exists here. I am fairly certain there are no keyboards. But perhaps there are other things close enough to what I had at home, that I might learn. I also used to enjoy to paint or draw, sometimes. But I have not seen the materials here that I had on Earth, and did not want to ask.  These are truly the only wants I can think of, that I have kept from you, out of the kind of thinking you wish me to abandon."

He perceived that she had fully yielded to him. He kissed her gently on the lips, indicating his approval. "Thank you, Adonnenniel. This pleases me, very much."

Nenni picked up one of his hands, and began studying it. She placed her own hand against his, comparing their sizes. His long fingers were finely formed, yet stopped short of being delicate. She frowned. It dawned on her, that in all the time she had been here, she had not cut her fingernails. His own were like hers, in that the barest edge to them that existed past their attachment to the tissue underneath, and no more. They did not trap dirt. "Fingernails... do not grow here?" she asked him. 

"Mine have never been other than as you see, meleth."

"I have thought of something else I want. Would you please massage my hands, as you did my feet?" She looked at him hopefully. This would have puzzled him, but he saw in her mind what she wished. Her hands were much smaller than his. He obliged her, and was fascinated to elicit more moans of pleasure. He would not have believed such could be so enjoyable, but for his looking on in her mind. 

He kissed her hand. "You must forgive me, my queen. Soon these noises that escape your lips will lead me astray. I must first ensure that the patrol I sent to clear the ambush has returned. Nightfall is almost upon us, and the storm has grown in earnest. Word should have come, by now." He rose from the pool, and she followed, wishing to dry herself and dress. Nenni did not attempt to remain with him, doubting that she could be of any possible use, should some action need to be taken. Once dressed, he left swiftly.

Warm underclothes were in a drawer, and a simple gown with a split skirt. It was cozy and very modest, made for colder weather. A goblet of wine in hand, her seat by the fire beckoned. His stack of books was still on the table, and she wished to look through them now. One that told the names of the flowers, trees and plants in Sindarin engrossed her, as did the drawings. These names were new, and she began to try to memorize the information, turning the pages carefully back and forth. 

With a violent noise, the balcony doors burst open and the icy winds filled the room.  Startled, she dropped the book and to her horror, a very large Orc entered the room. It had a knife drawn, and leered at her. With all she had, she shouted in her mind _Thranduil, save me._ Forall she knew, he had left the Palace. She had to make the best of it on her own. Beren was already on his feet, his fangs bared at the hideous creature as he snarled and barked. Nenni was hemmed in by furniture and walls, in her current position. Her blades lay on the table a little to the left of and behind the Orc. Any chance of reaching them seemed small. Her boots were near a smaller table closer to her, with the knives still in them, but to gain her weapons would mean running almost into the arms of the thing.

There seemed to be one chance; if Beren attacked, it might buy her the time to get the knives. The Orc was already distracted by the dog, at which he was unsuccessfully trying to slash. "Git 'um!" she cried to Beren, "git 'um!" Diving toward the hideous Orc, she grasped the knives as she entered a forward roll. But as she completed the motion, her feet tangled in her skirts, causing her to fall forward onto her face. Beren had the knife hand of the Orc in his  jaws, but the foul creature outweighed him considerably.

The Orc  ran up to Nenni with a wicked grin, stepping hard on her right wrist. She felt and heard the bones shatter as she screamed in pain. The Orc kicked at her left hand, hard, to dislodge that blade as well, cutting in at her cheek with his boot as he brought his foot back around. Laughing evilly, he flung Beren hard, sending him sailing across the room. He grabbed Nenni by the ankle, and began to drag her toward the balcony like a dirty towel. Desperately, she hooked her left elbow around the carven foot of the stone bench. Feeling the resistance, the Orc turned to see what she had done. Grinning, he used his knife to pierce the leg he held, cutting upward through the back of her calf. She screamed again in agony but still she held on. The Valar's promise was in her heart, but she could not see how she was not about to be killed. The Orc yanked hard, snapping the bones in her other forearm and dislocating her shoulder, as the force proved too much and broke her hold. 

Enraged, Beren had recovered enough to launch again at the knife hand of the Orc. This time, he did not hold on. His powerful jaws crushed through the bones and flesh of its wrist as it roared in pain. Before the dog could let go to seek its throat, the door to the chambers crashed open. Thranduil had come. In a split second a knife was thrown deep into an eye socket of the thing that had dared to invade his home. Guards raced past their King to look for others. 

Nenni closed her eyes, and thanked the Valar for their deliverance. Her considerable pain paled against her relief, that she has not been taken from her husband.

Thranduil's only thought was for his wife. His heart lurched at what had just happened to her. He did not need to ask where it hurt, and immediately stilled the pain. Her expression of relief was palpable. 

Trying to reach with left hand to him, she whispered, "You saved me. Thank you, Thranduil." With everything she had, she was trying to be brave and not give in to the shock she had just experienced. He took her hand very gently, realizing the ruin that had been made of her arms.

It took all of his self control to keep his voice calm, for her. She did not need to hear the rage inside of him come through, right now. "I am so sorry, meleth, and so proud of you. You fought with all you had. I will heal you, and there will be no pain. This will take some time to repair. I would not think less of you, if you wished to be made to sleep through it." 

 _Please no,_ she answered, pleading. _More than anything, I want to see you and know that I am near you._

"It will be as you wish, Adonnenniel." His eyes were kind to her, but she saw that great anger simmered inside of him. He lifted her very gently, placing her carefully on the bed on her right side. She held her arms in protectively, near her body. Beren came, to lie on the bed near her head. He sniffed and licked her. 

"Thank you Beren, without you I fear this would have gone very badly for me," she whispered softly. 

His tail thumped. 

Standing, Thranduil addressed his guards. "Four of you will stand watch here, until dismissed. The rest will remove this filth to the dungeons, where it maybe carefully examined later. I want the best trackers sent immediately to discover how this was possible, before the storm erases its steps."

He turned back to her battered body. "Would you allow me to go to the garden, for athelas?" he asked gently. Fear came over her eyes, but she nodded. He returned swiftly, having run each leg of the passageway. Galion, having entered on the tail end of the commotion, was already heating larger volumes of water and preparing clean cloths for the King's use. Thranduil was ready to begin in very short order. 

"My Lord, may I ask if the patrol returned safely?" Nenni asked meekly. 

"Yes, they did, meleth." What he did not mention is that they had been waylaid by yet another Orc pack as they returned. He forced his mind away from the topic. Their boldness had become a declaration of open war.

His chief concern was the wound on her leg, since it was given by a weapon. Assessing it carefully, he was relieved to find the cut was not out of the ordinary. There was no poison, or extra measure of foulness involved. Laying his hands over it, he knitted the flesh and skin back together. 

"Adonnenniel, I will help you now, to sit up at the edge of the bed." Nenni did not know if Thranduil asked the dog, but Beren repositioned himself to sit behind her, at a right angle to her back. This gave her something to lean against. 

 _Thranduil, you will think me mad, but might I ask a small favor before you begin again? All I had wanted was some wine to drink, before this happened. I think what I poured is still on the little table. And, I dropped your book_ , she said apologetically. Though she was not in pain, she was trembling. 

Somehow keeping a straight face, he brought her the wine and held it to her lips. "Drink this, meleth; it will help you relax." He did not pick up the book, and wisdom dictated saying nothing further about it. Gratefully, she drained what was given, and silently thanked him.

He examined each of her badly damaged arms. One had more extensive injuries; the other more severe injuries. It did not matter where he began. He placed the athelas in the steaming water, and went to work. She watched him, but said nothing, and tried to keep her mind still. But it proved impossible, to stop what had just happened replaying over and over in her thoughts. She did not let herself dwell on the fact that the Orc had almost succeeded in taking her. Suddenly she concluded that pit traps were not out of the realm of what she could do, after all. It had just become very personal. 

 _This is no good,_ she thought. Wrenching her mind away from these thoughts, she tried to remember  music from home. Settling on the Beethoven Violin Concerto, she closed her eyes and kept her concentration in this memory of great beauty and joy, and did not notice the passing of time. Thranduil calmed his own temper, as he worked. The music in her mind was like nothing he had ever heard. It was bittersweet, and full of yearning. Eventually she opened her eyes, and watched him now that her thoughts were quieter. It reminded her of the first time he had healed her. How strange it had all been, and how grateful she was, for his gift. Her mind roved to what these injuries would have meant, on Earth. Multiple surgeries, and the aftermath of the anesthesia. Rods and screws and pins and casts. Months of agonizing physical rehabilitation, after weeks of healing. Pain, and drugs to try to manage the pain. And even then, there would have been no complete restoration. Her fine dexterity in both hands would have been lost to nerve damage, and arthritis would later settle into the shattered bones. Her livelihood would have been lost, from being unable to work for so long. Yes, her appreciation for his care of her knew no bounds.

As he worked, light shone around him. Her heart ached at how lovely he was, seen this way. Galion had stood nearby this entire time, holding the bowl of hot water steeped with athelas. Smiling to herself, she saw in the steward's face as she stole a glance at him that she was hardly alone in her admiration of their King.

At long last, Thranduil was finished with her forearms. He now needed to reduce the dislocation. Recalling how to do this from her training, she felt vaguely queasy. He would not let it hurt, but still, the pulling and twisting would feel grotesque. Except, he did not use those techniques at all. Laying his hands over the shoulder, he moved it very gently until she felt the merest "click" as the joint came together properly again. Lastly, he healed the spreading purple bruise on her face where she'd been kicked.

"I am going to stop controlling your pain, Adonnenniel, in order to see if any remains. Are you prepared?" 

"Yes." Moving very tentatively, arms, hands and fingers were flexed and found to be just as before. "Thank you, my Lord. I can find nothing amiss in my body." At that moment, her stomach growled loudly. She blushed.  Turning to Galion, Thranduil thanked him for his help, and suggested that a meal might be in order. Turning, he dismissed his guards. 

Once they were alone again, he took her into his lap and held her tightly to him, not speaking. This was all he had wished to do, since hearing her call for help. It had been a torment to him, to follow what was happening in her mind as he raced back to the room with every bit of speed he could muster. That this could have happened under any circumstances was unthinkable. Yet, there was one thing he could and would now do. She heard and felt him speak to her: "Adonnenniel, I must lay an enchantment over these balcony doors, to seal them. I could not have imagined this would ever happen, and I will tolerate no possibility of such a thing ever occurring again. It will become like the Great Gates, or the garden, in that no evil thing may pass. Some minutes will be needed, in which I cannot converse with you; I will shut out your mind completely. Can you allow me this time?" 

"Of course, my Lord." Beren followed into her chamber and she closed the door, not wanting her noises of rooting through the wardrobe to disturb his work. Stripping off the gown and the cut and bloodstained leggings, she put on new underthings and tried to choose a new garment to wear, but could not. Shuddering, she felt irrationally as though donning fresh clothes would somehow cause the same thing to happen again. Instead she went to Beren, who had jumped on the bed and sat there. Wrapping her arms around him, she began trembling again. Unstoppable tears began to flow, as she sobbed quietly into his fur. The deep shock of having been attacked in what should have been the safest place in her entire world could no longer be staved off. 

Thranduil found her thus, a short time later, dismayed. He should not have turned his attention from her for any reason, so soon, but he too was trying to cope with this extreme violation to the sanctity of his home. He did not try to break her hold on Beren, but rather embraced her from behind, so that she was surrounded by her protectors. "I am here now, meleth, and so is Beren. You are safe." Slowly, she released her grip on the dog in order to turn to him. He could feel her fear, and soothed her mind and body until she was calmer. 

"I cannot choose clothing," she said, feeling ashamed of her behavior. Picking her up, he swiftly found something. Having seen the sum of her swirling thoughts, he selected something very different in appearance from what she'd worn earlier; a tunic and warm robe. He helped her into these, and led her from the room. Seating her at their workable, he knelt down in front of her, taking her hands in his. 

"How you feel is not your fault, Adonnenniel. It does not mean you lack courage or that you are somehow to blame. This was not like fighting in the forest; you are reacting to this having happened where you were supposed to be secure and safe." He sighed. "I fear for your mental well-being, that you will be unable to be at peace here now, on account of the memory. I can change this for you; make it seem to you as though it was something that happened long ago, or erase it altogether. I would not do this without your explicit consent." 

He had her full attention now. Nenni knew that she would be plagued by thoughts of this for weeks and months to come, and dreaded it. "Please, yes," she said. "Make it as though it was something that happened years ago." 

"You are certain? Do you wish to thank on it for a while? I cannot undo my work, once it is done."

"No, I do not. Please, do it now. There is nothing to be gained by waiting, except misery for both of us."

Reaching up, he took her face in his hands, as she gently held onto his wrists. She closed her eyes, and suddenly felt calm and ordinary. Leaning down to kiss him, she said "Thank you, so much. For everything you did for me today. You give me many blessings." He returned her kiss, and they spent some time thus occupied. He could not do for himself what he had done for her, and it was a reassurance to him to see that she was fully recovered. Galion returned with their meal, and an extra amount of meat for Beren. His arrival startled Nenni, but as the King did not seem to care, neither did she. 

With one last, long kiss, Thranduil broke away from her. "It is time to feed you, meleth" he said, smiling, offering her his hand, and seating her. It did not escape her attention that he followed the steward out, to speak with him. 

He returned, retrieving her wine goblet first, and served her. "You are so thoughtful," she smiled at him. The food was delicious as always, and she was hungry. After she had eaten her fill, she could no longer restrain herself from speaking.

"Thranduil," she said slowly, "would you think ill of me, if I asked you for some kind of weapon I could always have on me, or near me? Like smaller throwing knives? I am considering that it may simply be unwise, for the time being, to not always have some means of defending myself." She saw a pained expression cross his face. "Forgive me. I did not mean to cause you grief."

He met her eyes. "There is nothing to forgive, meleth. Neither of us can erase what happened today. You must understand that for me, both as your husband and your King, to not have been able to protect you from this, is difficult to bear. And yet I cannot allow myself to fall into blame, when it was unthinkable that this could ever occur. Your request is not unreasonable; I do not blame you for asking." 

"I was so close," she said. If I had not been wearing a gown, I believe I could have beaten it. My feet caught in the fabric and that is what undid me." She looked up into his eyes. "You do realize, I will now ask you for every opportunity to kill them?" Her voice was deadly cold. 

He considered her, very carefully. While his instinct was to shield her, did she not deserve to do as she asked? He sighed. "You have earned the right, Adonnenniel, though it is in my nature to want to shelter you."

"You have, Thranduil. You healed the damage to my body and mind from this; I could not want better. You care for me, when my strength fails. But I find I cannot tolerate what is happening. It is not in my nature to wring my hands, while these violations go on unchecked. I suppose it is the ellon in me." Her face beamed at him, lit up with her smile. 

He did not know what to make of her, sometimes, but he knew very much what he wanted to do with her, just now. Rising from his seat, he moved her chair back from the table and scooped her out of it. "Thranduil?," she asked, confused. 

"I need you, meleth," he said, his voice husky with desire. 

She kissed his cheek, amused. "Then have me." His lips dove to her mouth. He set her down on the bed, where she obliged him by removing her robe and tunic. As she began to fumble with the ties on her leggings, his fingers came to help her. He had disrobed with amazing speed. Nenni could not recall when he had ever desired her with this degree of fervor. Having been caught off guard, her body was not ready for him yet. Groaning, he opened his mind to her as he spread her legs and found her center with his tongue. His desire consuming her mind and the sudden stimulation caused her to gasp; her hips arched up to him. With his strong hands, he pinned down her lower body as his tongue slid in and out of her. With each moan that escaped him, the vibration from his voice sent a thrill through her intimate parts. In a short time, he had set her on fire. "Please," she said, her eyes glassy with need. "Take me." He did not need to be asked twice. With the last of his self restraint, he entered her carefully. Once he was certain he would not hurt her, he gave way to his lust. His strength amazed her, to the point where she became unfocused on her own passion and instead swirled along, caught up in the energy of his body and mind. She had never experienced anything quite like this. It was not sexual; it was electric. Like magic swirling in the garden, or standing in a place of safety at the center of a storm. It felt very...alive. He drove into her in a frenzy, and built up to a release that caused him to cry out. His entire body shuddered as she felt herself fill with his seed. What issued from him was warmer than her own body temperature, and felt like liquid silk spilling from her intimate places. Each tiny spasm from him as he subsided and collapsed against her was a thing of beauty. She felt full of a vitality she did not know how to describe. It was beautiful, radiant. She held him tightly, stroking the length of his back with her hands. Her heart was full of joy at this intensely unusual experience she'd just had with him. 

While she was occupied in her thoughts, he recovered himself enough to raise himself up on his forearms. His eyes were soft and he looked...almost lost. She reached up to stroke his cheek with her hand, tracing her fingers along the line of his eyebrow. Wrapping her fingers in his hair, she pulled his soft lips down to hers, and kissed them. She gasped as her loins surged unexpectedly, from this. He was now alert enough to realize, she had had no release. Smiling, he whispered, "I will not leave you unfulfilled."

He kissed her deeply, and began moving inside of her deliberately. She was stimulated, but had been unable to focus it. He lowered his angle more to fan her flames from inside and out. It was not long before she had grabbed onto the flesh of his back with her hands, trying to anchor herself as he drove her toward ecstasy. "Please, look in my eyes, Adonnenniel, let me see you." She did as he asked, holding nothing back from him, as her climax contracted the muscles of her body, and her intimate parts crushed down on his own. He groaned at the pleasure of her release. He felt it with her, inside of his mind. For a long time, she did not relax her hold on him. He kissed her cheeks and lips, and stroked her hair, propping himself up on an elbow. At last, her grip loosened. "I have held my King hostage long enough," she said, laughing.

 "Fair enough," he said,"since I kidnapped you from your dinner." He moved his body off of hers, carefully. 

"If I can ask you for my wine to be brought to the pool, my world will be complete," she quipped, dashing off in that direction as she grabbed her hair sticks on the way. Stretching out in the water, she sighed with contentment. What exactly has just transpired, she did not understand, but it had been beautiful. Thranduil paused long enough to coax a blazing fire from the embers and joined her, with wine for both of them. 

"You are wondering what came over me, meleth?" he asked her, smiling. 

"Partly. I am also wondering what came over me; I have never experienced something like that." 

"It is safe to say, you were swept up into my state of mind. To put it simply, I was angry, frustrated, and shaken. And sexual release is a means by which a male can seek relief from those things." 

She frowned. "No, that cannot be all of it. I understand what you describe; Edain men are the same. Actually, anyone can be the same. Seeking relief in a sexual way is not only limited to males. But this was something else. It was energy, and a sense of power. The closest thing I can find for a comparison is the feel of the magic in the garden." He smiled. "Adonnenniel, I am guilty of keeping much from you. Still, out of long habit, I do not open myself to you as fully as I should. I have been unfair, because you have not seen a fraction of my mind when I have seen great landscapes of your own. I tell you truly, what you experienced was...me."

Nenni stared at him, considering. "I never have, and never will, ask you to share more of yourself with me than you truly wish to. Our relationship is in some ways not on equal footing. Yet I am content. You are my mate, but also my guide, my protector, and my King. Over time you have guided and healed and transformed me into far more than I was when I arrived here. You have not needed the same things from me, though I acknowledge I have benefited you as well. So all that being said, what I am to understand is that I felt the raw energy of you as a person, because you were not in anyway controlling or tempering it?"

Thranduil nodded. 

"Well then, it is one of the most beautiful things I have ever experienced. It was strong and primal and filled with light, and I would drown myself in it if you allowed me to. There are not words, for the privilege of belonging to you," she said. Coming from another, the words might have rung hollow. But this was not coming from another, and her sincerity and love were so evident that the voice of her heart was beyond question. He looked into her eyes, and knew that the time had come.

He brought her into his lap, facing him, and placed her hands at the sides of his face. He threaded his own hands through her hair, holding onto her. "Look into my eyes, and do not waver," he said to her softly. She complied without hesitation or question, as he knew she would. The weight of his mind came over her once again, and she felt herself being filled with...something. There was power, and ability, and the perception of vast stretches of time. And pressure. It felt like diving ever deeper into water, until the pressure from all around began to feel unbearable. Like the night he first healed her mind, she wondered if something inside of her head would break.  She felt a thin trickle of warm liquid, run from her nose, slowly dripping.  It was a struggle to obey him in the face of rising discomfort, but she held steady. And then the pressure stopped. "You may look away now, it is done." He reached up to wipe away the trickle of blood from her nose. 

"My Lord, what is done?" she asked, confused. He kissed her. 

"Adonnenniel, I grant you now what you gave me so freely already. You have my full permission, to see into my mind as I do into yours. And, you now also have the means."

She said nothing, but reached around him for the wine, taking a very large swallow. This was so far outside of her experience, she did not know how to feel. Her first instinct was that he had granted her something for which she was not ready or qualified. But, he did not do things like that. In some ways, he knew her better than she knew herself. Her second instinct was to wonder if he really wished to do this. Of course he did, he knows his own mind. _Oh, shut up and thank him_ , she told herself. 

Thranduil laughed. "I am afraid you will find my mind far more dull than your own is, Adonnenniel. I will confess that I find your mental narratives to be quite interesting. I could never have guessed that someone would construct their thoughts around arguing with themselves as much as you do." 

"Says he who is fully aware that this is just slightly overwhelming for me", she deadpanned, shaking her head. "Alright. So that I don't accidentally break anything, would you tell me in plain language how this works?"

He smiled. "It is not complex. You simply choose to look inside, and you will. But if my experience is any indication, the more you enter my mind, the less you will have to choose to do so. It will transfer to a circumstance in which you will have to actively make a point to stay out. If you are wondering why I have done this, it is because I love you. You have bound yourself to me in every way possible. And as time has gone on, I have come to desire the same for myself. Please?"

In a thousand years she would not have guessed at this. She took a deep breath, and opened the door. This would take some getting used to. He had let her in before, but it was almost always for a reason. She leaned forward to kiss him, feeling the sincerity of his love. 

"Do you feel me?" she asked. "I think I used to feel you, a few times in the beginning, but then I no longer did. As time went on and I determined I would keep nothing from you, I just began to assume you heard everything within me, that you were always here."

"I do feel you. And I want it. I want it in the same way that I often desire to join my body to yours. It will be an adjustment, for both of us."

On hearing these words, her body lurched again with heat. How could she desire him again, so soon? Her cheeks reddened. Very tenderly, he said to her, "It is the normal way with Elves, meleth. It does not even begin to subside until children come. We bond very closely with our mates, and our physical need for the other reflects that."

At these words, her body and her mind betrayed her. Her wanting of him flared, as did the image of carrying his child. Her eyes widened in dismay, as she looked at him. But she saw only calm and understanding. He had seen, and it was not a surprise. "You knew?" she asked, incredulous.

"Yes, I did. There was another occasion, at the height of your passion, when I saw the same. I also saw that you struggled with it, and that it was private."

"Then I owe you an explanation, and I owe it to myself to share my doubts and fears. I am beginning to have these thoughts of desiring pregnancy. And given my former life and thinking, I do not know what to do with them. I have no reference for understanding; I am lost and feel troubled. I can guess that this is the normal desire for a child beginning to manifest, though I am not certain. I am afraid of what is to come, on two fronts. The desire for a pregnancy is not the same as the desire to create a new life, to guide and care for another living being. I am having the former, not yet the latter. Though, I have seen in my heart that one day, I will bear you another child.  I do not understand how conception works here. You told me once that elleth conceive when they wish to. I fear to even think about these things, lest I accidentally cause something to happen before I am truly ready. I know what is to come. I know that there will be a time when the evil influences that exist in this world now will be gone, cleansed. That is the world in which I want to let this desire fulfill itself. Not the world as it is now.  Can you offer me guidance?"

The strong love he had reached out to her. "All you need to do, meleth, is ask the Valar to watch over you in this. It is they who weave the fabric of our lives. You may embrace every thought of my seed taking hold in your womb, and conceiving a child. You may enjoy the thoughts of that future happiness. Leave it to them to allow it, at the time it is meant to happen." He looked at her, sensing confusion, or hesitation. "Do you wish my aid, in this?" Nenni nodded.

He took her into his arms. With their minds fully joined, he prayed. "In Eru's name, grant us our desire for a child in the world as you wish it to be, the world we will labor to restore. We place this matter, with humble hearts, into your care and keeping." His words were simple but carried the fullness of her desire for the future. 

"Thank you. You are...accepting, of my feelings? I am not the only one whose opinion matters, in this." She felt that he was content, but needed to hear it from him in words. 

"We are blessed to know that we have a bright future, Adonnenniel. It is enough for me, truly. That this will happen in its own time, brings me great joy." 

She kissed him, and he responded eagerly. He too had wanted to enjoy thoughts of getting her with child. Carrying her out of the water, he did not bother to dry them but instead spread out some towels on the bed. Sucking at her breasts, he imagined them heavy with milk and the sweet taste of it that he remembered. Her seeing this drove her mad with wanting him. His fingers found that she was still slick from him. As he continued to nurse on her, his fingers slid up her abdomen, cupping over her womb, massaging it under his hand, eliciting moans of need. He entered her, delivering the long, deep thrusts that would send the entrance to her womb dipping into the seed with which he would fill her, before she climaxed. Still he pulled at her nipples with his mouth, moving from one to the other with hunger as she arched her back into him. She built up until she felt his release into her, and his thoughts of creating a child within her. Her hands hooked around his shoulders to pull him down into her, as her own release came. For the first time in her life she allowed herself to feel the desire for conception without fearing it, or believing that it was somehow wrong or bad. 

Thranduil saw this, and felt pity for the depth to which the normal desire of any female had been twisted around in her. 

Nenni replied:  _But as always you heal me, one broken place at a time._ The road toward preparing for children was long indeed, but this lovemaking had felt like a relief to her, a step forward. _Thank you._

Sitting up, she allowed his semen to flow out onto the towels. She had been in and out of the pool more times today than a duck, to her mind. Wiping herself clean, she dressed for nighttime and retrieved their wine. Spotting the long neglected book that had fallen to the floor, she carefully picked it up and checked it. It appeared to be unharmed, for which she was grateful. He came to sit with her, near the fire. As they finished their wine, he was quiet. Not just him, but his mind as well. Next to the incessant dialogue in her own head, she found it soothing. Becoming drowsy, she wanted to ask about duties for tomorrow, but found that as the storm was still blowing outside, she could not bring herself to care at the moment. 

_I should go to bed. The chamber...cannot be breached again? You will stay here?_

The King rose. "The balcony is sealed by magic, and you will not leave my arms tonight," he said. A very short time later, she felt his love envelop her, as sleep arrived on soft wings.

 


	14. Loose Ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rhiw 7-27, Imladris. November 30-December 20, Gregorian. "Hithaeglir" is the Sindarin word for the Misty Mountains. Edited, version 2.0

Nenni woke first, secure in the arms of the Elvenking. The regular rise and fall of his chest told that he still slept. She entered his mind, wishing to feel him, feel the stillness  she guessed would be there. Closing her eyes,  indescribable delight soothed her; he felt just as the water did, when she submerged and circled under it. A dive into his unconsciousness gave almost a moment of trepidation, a realization of how easily one could become lost here. At scattered points in time, her thoughts had wandered in reflection on their....arrangement. Was it wise, for each of them to have cast all privacy aside and created this bond from which neither could escape the oversight of the other? There was a prohibition to respect the sanctity of the mind for good reason. He had given her his own skill and strength, to delve into the mind of another. The thought alone made her feel vaguely queasy; the use of this ability without consent on another was akin to rape. But what was between them was nothing like that; each had given full sanction to the other. Nenni had gone beyond giving him consent, she had practically insisted on his presence in her mind. And with this access, he had lifted her from darkness into light. Now that he had handed himself over to her, their bonds to each other would deepen yet further. He was far stronger, mentally, and for better or worse, she could not bring herself to care. If there was ever a prospect of life without him, it was not wanted; she would follow him over the edge of life itself, if that was what it took to remain at his side. Amused, a repeating question rolled over in her mind,  _will I lose myself in him?_   The answer formulated quickly enough. _I am already lost, and gladly._

For a long while she indulged herself thus, dwelling in his sleeping mind to quell all other sensations. Her happiness was complete. Unlike being in the water, here there was no need to break away to breathe the air. And then, he began to stir. The change was very dramatic. A strong presence came to the forefront, like the arrival of a force of nature. _Good morning, Adonnenniel. Are you enjoying yourself, looking around?_ he asked with good humor. 

 _I was, my Lord, but not by looking around. You were still, like the water. It was perfect. And now you are awake._ He heard the wistfulness, and did not understand. 

 _Do you never wonder why I twist around in circles, under the water in your pool?_ she asked, showing him her perceptions of his unconscious mind.

 _You seek....this?_ he asked, still unclear.

 _You must know, by now, that my mind is never quiet. I cannot help it, and it can be very tiresome. But under the water, I am free from this. Asleep, you feel like the water, and I do not need to leave in order to breathe._  His wife wriggled around in his embrace, to kiss him. He still did not entirely comprehend, but was touched that she had found an innocent delight to savor in him. 

They rose and occupied themselves in their duties. He held audiences again, with her in attendance. Nenni made time to visit the father and daughter, whose petition he had assigned her to judge. At the trade council, she received a well-written and clear production schedule for the garden, which pleased her greatly. At each of these,  the steadying influence of his thoughts layered over her own. It was at the core of her nature to absorb what emotion surrounded her, and this meant that exposure to his ordered and disciplined mind quieted her far busier and reactive one. He taught her, as well, sharing knowledge that he felt would benefit her, without words. On a wild impulse, she asked if they might eat their noon meal in the Great Hall today. Once there, she curtsied to him deeply before they seated themselves. _Still, Adonnenniel?_ he teased. 

_My reverence for you does not diminish, my Lord. If anything, it increases with each passing day._

Her blunt sincerity caught him by surprise. His eyes widened, and he bowed his head to her in acknowledgement. For those dining below, their stolen glances were rewarded by the sight of their smiling King conversing with his queen. Afterward, Nenni insisted on stopping in at the kitchens, where she felt it was long overdue to thank the workers for their extra efforts with the granola and the cupcakes. Lavish praise was offered to them for the delicacy of flavor and texture they had brought to their interpretation of both foods, and for the quality of every bite  they enjoyed daily. Thranduil noted that every face in the kitchen was lit with a smile of gratitude as they left. _You are very thoughtful, Adonnenniel_ , he praised.

Smiling eyes looked up at him. _Says he, who has given me everything._

As they returned to their chambers, Thranduil pondered. He meant to make good on his determination to ensure she did not continue to overextend herself. The storm still had not abated outside the Halls, so there would be no run in the forest today. They could train, and there was also labor in the garden. His thought was interrupted.

 _Do you always expend this much effort, just to fuss about me?_ Astonishment suffused her mental voice. 

Mildly chagrined, he had already forgotten that his thoughts were no longer private; in less than a day she had learned to slip in unnoticed. 

_Welcome to my world, my beloved King._

Ignoring her, Thranduil tilted his head up as he summoned some measure of his authority. "My failure to do so sooner has left you exhausted on more than one occasion. Not to mention, you are apparently a magnet for every Orc east of the Hithaeglir. As it falls to me to keep you healthy and functional; yes, I do fuss about you, as you put it." His words and tone begged her to just try and protest, against this assessment. 

Casting her eyes down, she had to recognize that she had more than a slight proclivity for becoming badly damaged. Even had she felt like making a game of his overprotective tendencies, what objection could she possibly make? "Then thank you, my Lord. I am grateful for your care."

Thranduil frowned, having anticipated a challenge. Nenni laughed. "No my King, I would not resist you, in this. What right do I have, after all you have done to repair me?" A yawn was visibly stifled, as the delicious meal lulled her. 

"Good. Then you will not mind my insistence that you rest again for awhile. Sleep, if you can."

Her head bowed to him, in acquiescence. Walking to where Beren still slept soundly on the bed, she took a large feather pillow and blanket to the stone bench. Arranging  herself into an odd, crumpled position on her side, blinking eyes now enjoyed the falling snowflakes outside the balcony doors. 

He sighed. Nobody could possibly be comfortable, in that position. He seated himself on the bench, lifting her upper body, and cradled her in his arms. Reaching for his hand, she held it under her cheek. Relaxation from his touch gave way to sound sleep. Slowly and carefully, he withdrew his hand so that he might pull the blanket up over her shoulder. Certain that she slumbered unawares, he allowed himself to think on the dead Orc in his dungeon. He needed to examine the repulsive thing, and it could not wait much longer. Additionally, he expected the report from the trackers. An idea was forming in his mind, however repugnant. This most recent attack justified extreme measures. He would seek to capture one or more of them at the next opportunity, but he would not bring them to his Hall. Straight to the dungeons it would go, and by the shortest route. The prohibitions concerning the sanctity of the mind did not apply to Orcs. If he had to dismantle their thoughts until they perished, he would find out what he wished to know. 

Very gently, he stroked her hair, remembering how short and oddly shorn it had been on her arrival. Though he'd never told her, seeing something so completely foreign had shocked him. It was one of many details that alerted him to her truthfulness, that day; it was not even conceivable that a female from Ennor would appear thus. There were moments when he still could not believe his blessings. How his heart leaped, when he first saw her!...only to find that she was fatally injured. His iron discipline alone had enabled him to keep his distance those first weeks, watching from afar. And he recalled the first time he entered her room when she would not leave it, standing so near as she knelt before him. How badly he had wished to crush his lips to hers. And that not three days after, in all her frailty, she renewed the bonds that would hold her to him forever. A tear rolled down his cheek, as the memories came. Which was why a cold anger crept over him. These incursions that threatened her safety would end. No elleth should have to suffer what she had. 

Twitching in his arms, she began to dream. 

He saw a great battle of men and orcs and worse, recognizing it as the Pelennor Fields before Gondor, but the hosts arrayed against them were beyond anything of which he could conceive. His heart wrenched. Regiments of every foul servant of darkness blanketed the battlefield, blackening the plain with their numbers. He recognized the Oliphaunts, like the topiary she made in the garden, but unbelievably more massive.  The earth shook, under each step from these monsters. The scene was a nightmare he had long dreaded; the evil of Mordor risen again. The view his mind beheld was so far in excess of the terrors at the Battle at Dagorlad that he quailed, inside of himself.  His lips parted as he looked on, but he could not tear himself away.

Many of the edain were riders;  the Rohirrim, the horse lords whose lands lay to the south. In the skies, he saw something that froze his blood. This was no dragon, as he first feared; it was smaller, a dark monstrosity with great wings of skin that took to the air. And it was not alone, for mounted upon it and issuing a deadly cry was a power that even he would fear to meet in battle. He recognized the Nazgûl of Sauron, for what else could this be? The beast swooped in low to seize and fling one rider and horse from its cruel jaws; the edain king. The mortal ruler lay on the field, broken and dying under the body of his mount. A lone warrior rushed in to the defense of his lord, against this thing of consuming evil that approached, intent on finishing its work. He held his ground bravely against the massive beast; the Nazgûl had instructed it to feast on the flesh of his still living king. Thranduil's heart leapt, as the warrior slew the abomination; two blows of his sword severed its head from its neck.  Transfixed, Thranduil watched as the Wraith rose from being thrown by the creature's death throes. Still this warrior stood, even against approach of the terrible power; his death was certain. Thranduil acknowledged that mortal or no, this man had the heart of lions. He watched the fight unfold, as a blow from the Wraith's morningstar shattered the man's shield and arm. The fighter could not prevail. A tear fell from Thranduil's blue eyes; this was bravery to which any warrior would pay deepest homage.

Nothing could have prepared the Elvenking for what came next. A tiny being, not unlike Bilbo Baggins, stabbed at the leg of the wraith from out of nowhere, unwinding the spell that bound it to this plane. And at that moment,  the warrior removed his helm. This was not a man but a maid, with flowing hair as golden as that of Adonnenniel, in her early years at his side. Raising her sword in fell anger, she smote the Witch King through his helm, and was felled where she stood. The sheer power of the thing she dared smite struck her down; a foe beyond the measure of any mortal. But the wraith, who had ruled once in unconquerable terror over the northern region of Angmar, was vanquished. He could feel Adonnenniel's heart soar in approval at this great deed, to which anyone who fought would gladly wish to lay claim.

Inhaling sharply in her unrest, Nenni woke in Thranduil's arms, disoriented, taking in his expression. It was both pained and filled with disbelief. Her own eyes struggled to focus, as the images of the dream swiftly left her. "My Lord, what is the matter?" she asked softly. 

"Do you recall your dream?" he asked. 

"Yes, I do. You are...upset, to have looked on it?" she questioned, uncertain.

"It is of...the future?" 

She nodded, trying to sit up. He helped her. "Yes, my Lord. It is the greatest battle of the War of the Ring, that is to come."

"Who is the...woman, who destroyed the wraith?" 

"That is Eowyn, of the royal house of Rohan. Niece to their King." Nenni's eyes dropped down. "All those around her would not see her heart for what it was, one of surpassing courage and resolve for deeds in battle. Together with a Halfling, she performs the single greatest feat at arms in the entire War." Nenni laughed, but bitterness was in her voice. "Men often fail to understand the hearts of women. We are not all of a certain single disposition. Yet out of a wish to protect us, we are often denied our chances to achieve. No one should be held down from what they are capable, on account of their sex. You do not know how much I appreciate that you have not caged me, when it is within your authority to do so."

"Does she perish?"

"No. Though she is injured badly. Eowyn heals, and lives. I would gladly meet her, though I do not believe my path will ever take me thence in her lifetime."

Thranduil looked at her a long while, as she stared out the window. "Did you wish to know more, my Lord?" For whatever reason, it did not feel right to look in on his thinking just now. 

"No, that is not necessary," he replied. "I was reflecting on your words. And how it is deep within the nature of a male to wish to protect those we love. I too cannot help but have these feelings, Adonnenniel. Yet I will confess I had not given full consideration to what it might feel like, to be held back in such a manner. I do not wish to cause you to feel this way."

"You have not, Thranduil. You have shown exceptional skill and wisdom, in your dealings with me. You have encouraged my strengths and you have supported me in my times of weakness. I harbor no illusions, I am not a male. I will never have your strength of body. But you have never used my comparative shortcomings to bar me from working to accomplish what I can. Though I applaud her spirit, I do not wish to be like Eowyn. She defied her king, out of a sense of desperation, to seek a place on the battlefield. A wise ruler does not provide those under him or her with valid reasons to rebel."

The raw truth in her extemporaneous pronouncement caught him. There had been a time when he had not proven wise, and when he had placed his subordinates in exactly such a position. He had just never quite considered this facet of it. 

Horrified, sudden realization came, as to what had just been said. "My King, I am sorry, I did not consider my words, I did not mean to criticize--" He pressed his finger to her lips, silencing her. 

"Do not be sorry for speaking the truth, Adonnenniel. It was in the past, and I have tried my best to correct the errors in my thinking. I have learned from this conversation. Perhaps I understand you better, now." He leaned down, to kiss her on the forehead.

Nenni fell silent, and some time passed before she spoke again. "If it is not inappropriate for me to speak of this now, I have come to as much of a decision as I am able, regarding the father and his daughter." He saw that she looked up at him, waiting for his permission to continue. 

"And?" he asked, kindly.

"There should be no marriage. The daughter told me that she wishes to have training in a trade, and that he will not permit it. They both need to find healing, but not with each other. I would grant her wish to study smith crafting, if possible with the Dwarves, as she has asked to. I would take her to King Dain, in the springtime, and allow her to live in the Palace until then. With the understanding that there will be consequences, should she fail to behave appropriately under her instructors. What to do for the father, I do not exactly know. I would encourage him to sail into the West, for he will not find healing here. If I could command it, I would send him to Imladris. He needs to be in a restful place, but still among Elvenkind. The opportunity to depart these lands will present itself, soon enough."

"Then it shall be as you say. Do you desire to tell them, tomorrow?" 

"No, my Lord, I do not. I have no formal position or authority, to the eyes of others here. Unless you direct otherwise, it would be best coming from you. I thank you, for listening to me. Still I would not be offended, if you judge differently."

In response, he kissed her. Not passionately, but with approval of her efforts. She returned the same to him, moving into the steady self-assurance of his thoughts. Nenni liked how it felt, to be in his mind. It reminded her of a warm blanket, that shut out the cares of the outer world. With a sigh, she reminded herself that there were likely other things to do today, and released him from her embrace.

He picked her up, and outlined the rest of their afternoon. It was the outline of many afternoons; for the next few weeks they fell back into a comfortable pattern of duties, training and working in the garden. He took her with him to inspect the orc that had attacked in their chambers, trusting in her. She did not react to the encounter in the slightest, as he had feared might happen. If anything, she had a detached and clinical ease around death that few he had seen could match. Moreover, she found on the creature's armor the mark of a white hand, explaining to her King the significance. It seemed to confirm her original suspicions. 

Their days continued on without further incident, and then he said to her one evening: "Meleth, tomorrow is Turuhalmë, the night of the Solstice. I greatly look forward to celebrating with you." 

Nenni had completely forgotten. Well, as she no longer had Christmas, this would be what took its place for all the rest of her existence. "I do as well, husband, though I am as an infant in understanding what it means. If you are with me, I am sure it will be delightful."

"I should have asked you this sooner, Adonnenniel, and I hope you forgive me. Would you sing something for us, tomorrow night, if the opportunity arises? Perhaps a song of wintertime, from your world?" 

If she needed any clearer indication that she had transitioned well into her new life here, perhaps none was more obvious than her lack of concern at this request. Even a month ago, that question might have sent her into a dizzying spiral of emotion. Instead, she blinked a few times. "Of course. If it would please you, I am happy to do so. But, it will cost you a goblet of wine."


	15. Durufuin Eve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The night before Solstice; Rhiw 27, Imladris, December 20 Gregorian ] 
> 
> The beautiful and sadly neglected carol Nenni sings for Thranduil is called In Praise of Christmas; Loreena McKennitt's sparse and lovely version is here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jWXuxjzpx6M
> 
> Small warning: As was hinted at earlier, Adonnenniel does not have much regard for the religious faiths practiced on Earth. Those who are devout, and do not appreciate their cherished beliefs being unfavorably dissected, may find this chapter to be patently offensive.
> 
> We all need to learn Sindarin, and move beyond "meleth". Hopefully everyone got by now that it is the noun for "love," used here as a term of endearment. The language will appear more now, used in simple ways that hopefully will make learning and remembering new words easy for the reader. This will happen very gradually, so that it doesn't ruin the flow of the text.   
> Also, the original title of this chapter was "Turuhalmë Eve." It was first written after a long session spent trying to learn something about holidays and celebrations of elves across the many ages, with a view to searching out something that would fit my story. Turuhalmë is a very old word for Yule night. It was only much later, did I learn that a Sindarin word existed, 'Durufuin.' Which literally means, 'log night'. The text will be changed, to reflect this understanding.  
> Edited, version 2.0

Thranduil brought her wine. "As always, meleth, you do not bargain well."

She laughed. "You would not like it if I did, Thranduil. You would wonder who this stranger is who pushed me aside and took away your sweet and compliant wife." _Besides_ , she mused to herself, _this is not a hard selection. I'm not going to sing about Frosty the Snowman or Jesus, so that pares it down to what, two choices, only one of which has multiple verses?_

"Excellent, meleth. May I hear it?" Her eyes narrowed, as she was still feeling mildly stung by his teasing. 

"That will cost you a long foot rub," she said, smiling. "Is that more to your liking?"

"Agreed. And still, you do not bargain well." 

The little muscle at the corner of her eye twitched, just once. Standing up and taking a fair sized swallow of wine, she set her goblet down, to sing for him.

_All hail to the days that merit more praise, Than all the rest of the year.  And welcome the nights that double delights  As well for the poor as the peer! Good fortune attend each merry man's friend, That doth but the best that he may;  Forgetting old wrongs, with carols and songs,  To drive the cold winter away._

"It goes on thus for some verses. I hope it suits, my Lord, as there are precious few good choices." 

"It is lovely, but there is something I do not understand. In your mind I see an entire catalog of songs that I presume were connected to this time of the year, on Earth. And yet there are few good choices?"

"Well, they are all what were called Christmas carols. And your festival is not Christmas, so many of the songs would have no place and would make no sense to anyone. Very few of the songs are limited only to the idea of wintertime, or celebration for its own sake."

"Perhaps I ask the wrong question. What is this Christmas, if it is not Turuhalmë?"

 _There is not enough wine for this,_ Nenni  thought _._

"I will try my Lord, but be prepared for many things to make no sense. By rights, this explanation should cost you some magnificent piece of jewelry and a week of nonstop foot massage, but as you already pointed out, I do not bargain well."

His eyebrows raised. "Based on that comment alone, I feel interested," he laughed.

More wine flowed blissfully past her discriminating palate. He beckoned for her to come near, and give him her feet.  It was an invitation swiftly accepted. Just the feel of his very warm hands caressing her ankles made her tingle with happiness.

"To answer your question, I first need to explain to you that there were religions on Earth. These were belief systems that paid worship to gods. It was something like our subjection to  Eru and the Valar, but Eru and the Valar are real. Whereas, as near as many of us could tell, the gods of Earth were stories made up to serve the emotional needs of those who believed in them. I will never know for certain; I can only confess to you that I was raised to believe these things as a child, but lost all faith in them as an adult. 

One of the belief systems was called Christianity. A deity claimed to be the one true God, the one who had created the heavens and earth and all life. He would be like Eru, but called himself Yahweh. No one has any idea how his name was actually pronounced, so, something along those lines. He created a vast host of angels; much like the Ainur, and then the world, the animals of earth and then the fist pair of humans. They were immortal, like the Elves. He placed them in a garden, and gave them one prohibition. There was a tree from which they must not eat, for if they did, they would be able to decide what was good and bad for themselves. This was a test of obedience. 

The female of the couple was named Eve. She listened to the words of a fallen angel...something like Melko. And she ate from the forbidden tree, and encouraged her husband to do so as well. In punishment for their disobedience, Yahweh took away their immortality, and drove them from the garden, condemning them and all their descendants to mortal life filled with hardship. But he promised that one day, he would send a means of salvation, a path back to immortality for humankind. In the beginning, according to the stories, humans had  long life, much like the race of Númenor. But as the generations went on, the lifespan of a human came to be perhaps seventy or eighty years. 

Thousands of years passed by, and a savior was sent in the form of a perfect man, one untouched by mortality. He was Yahweh's own son, who he had transferred into the womb of an untouched human woman, to be born and raised. It was his task to grow to adulthood, teach others how to live a good and moral life, and remain obedient to Yahweh's will until he was killed, thereby making a blood sacrifice of his unblemished life. This act served to cancel out the misdeeds of the original couple, and restore the path to immortality for all humans. The name of this son of Yahweh was Jesus. This was supposed to have happened about two thousand years ago. Are you following so far, at least a little?"

Thranduil frowned, but nodded. He was also looking on in her mind, trying to navigate this....story. She continued.

"So the holiday celebrated in the wintertime, Christmas, is to celebrate the birth of Jesus. Jesus was called Jesus Christ, or Jesus the Anointed One. Except, it actually doesn't; Jesus could not have been born in the wintertime. There were other religions on Earth, that worshiped many other gods. These other gods had festivals at the winter solstice, to celebrate the longer daylight returning, and the time of year. One religious idea, Jesus, was layered onto other religious ideas, many years ago in the human world. And it eventually took root as a celebration, and many traditions formed around it. 

We exchange wrapped gifts, sing carols, eat a feast, visit friends, make merry, decorate an evergreen tree with ornaments and lights, make and eat special sweets, on and on. But most of these customs never had anything to do with Jesus. Except, most of those who believe in Jesus will not hear a word to the contrary, and mark it in their minds as a sacred time to remember that their Savior was born. However, everyone on Earth still dies and nobody is immortal. There is supposed to be an immortal afterlife, something like the Halls of Mandos, though no one can explain a thing about it. 

Personally I thought it was all quite silly, but I did enjoy the customs. It was a time to be with family and friends, to set aside the usual pace of life and cherish those most important to us. The colored lights at nighttime and the songs were lovely. Except that in the human world, even this was fading. The holiday was changing into one that was about extravagance, showing off wealth, and the expectation of receiving gifts.  I could go into more detail until you beg for mercy, but that is the overall summary of the thing."

Nenni looked up to see that Thranduil had a generally pained look on his face, his eyes were unfocused, and his foot rub had deteriorated to random squeezes of her feet. 

"Come back, my Lord. I guarantee you that if you think too long on this, you will suffer an aching head. It is unwise to reflect on this, or any other facet of Edain religions, for any length of time."

He blinked several times. "And at one time, you were made to believe in this?" he asked, a strange tone in his voice.

"Yes, my King, millions were. Are. And there are many other religions besides, that are comprised of even greater lunacy than what I have described. I feel as though I should pray to the Valar, to thank them for being comprehensible."

"Adonnenniel, there is much I have not understood about life on Earth. I see now, that it is a marvel that you returned to me with any measure of sanity left at all."

Nenni found this touching, coming from him. And honestly, she could not disagree. His efforts refocused on her feet, and she let out a terribly interesting two-toned vocalization he had not heard before. "These noises you make, Adonnenniel; are they thought up just to cause me to desire you carnally, or is there something else to them?"

She blushed. "I am sorry my Lord, it was not my intent. It is just that it feels so good. I do not really realize I am doing it."

"Yet lovemaking, which presumably also feels good to you, leaves you largely silent. Why?"

This was a very good question, and she had to ponder the answer. "It is a different kind of pleasure. Intimacy is not something that starts out as any kind of discomfort. But feet...feet become tired. And cold. So when you attend them, it is both a sort of healing as well as a pleasure. And the feet are connected to legs, that became sore from the soreness of the feet. Perhaps there is so much more overall area, to make feel better. Something like that? It is certainly no reflection on your talents. You have on every occasion given me the greatest enjoyment. I hope I have managed to give you half as much pleasure."

Thranduil smiled, expertly driving his thumb into the spot on the arch of her foot that she tended to respond to the most. "That isn't fair," she gasped. "You have learned my body too well; I am powerless against you."

He smiled, with the air of smug authority she found to be so inexplicably appealing. "It is a King's duty to know how to master others, Adonnenniel. I would be very remiss if I did not focus on you, most of all."

She sighed. "It is now your turn. I have tried to explain Christmas. You must tell me something of Turuhalmë. Aside from this sounding like a party, I know nothing." 

"It is not of any great complexity. We make merry often. I suppose you could say that most of our holidays involve extra food and more special food, over-imbibing, music, and some sort of theme. This is the Fire Night, and as the words suggest, we build fires both around and inside the halls throughout the evening. If there is snow on the ground, there might be snowballs hurled at anyone unfortunate enough to wander into range. I must warn you, being royalty or nobility does not exempt anyone from becoming a victim. I tolerate it because it is an unwritten rule that on our festivals,  ordinary protocol is suspended. We are not the Noldor, and take some pride in bonding over celebration. There is dancing, as I told you some time ago. I have been lonely, and frankly aloof, through centuries of these occasions. This one is special to me, because now I have you again. Though, the last ellon who was brave enough to hit me with a snowball lived to regret it. Mysteriously, he found himself assigned to a month of guard duty in the dungeon."

Laughter gave way to regarding him, for a long time. "Thank you, for telling me this. Honestly, it sounds more similar to a different holiday on Earth, the pagan tradition of All Soul's Night. But it matters not. It means a great deal to me, that you enjoy yourself." She chuckled. "Are you sure you are ready?  Give me enough alcohol, and you may see someone else that you have not yet met. My Edain friends used to think it was quite an improvement on my usual demeanor."

Listening to this, Thranduil becane intrigued. Looking into her mind, he caught scattered images of her being unusually vivacious, and singing and....sick, from over-imbibing. He made a mental note that he would be wise to keep a very close eye on her, and his shelves stocked with   _miruvor_. He thought of the vintage of Dorwinion wine that would be trotted out tomorrow evening; it was extra strong, and she'd never had it before. His eyes narrowed. _A very close eye._

Her feet took her out to the balcony, where the air prickled at her skin and breath froze in little clouds as she exhaled. The storm had died down some days past, but snow still lingered on every surface as the temperatures had never risen. She swiftly packed a very large snowball with her hands and hid it in her clothing. Stepping behind him so as to have a luxurious aim, Nenni hurled it into the back of his head. As he slowly rose, he heard her utter, "Oops. How did that happen?" Next thing, she was racing off to the garden, having gotten a comfortable head start. He sighed. To follow her was certain entrapment. Besides, he already had an agenda for tomorrow night that would more than achieve his revenge. He smirked to himself and carefully subsumed his thoughts. 

Taking his time, he followed her to the far warmer outdoor area under the starry skies. He entered through the doorway and walked forward deliberately to the area where he knew she could imprison him. He spoke in a clear, strong voice. "You may make me your captive if you wish, Adonnenniel; you have my word that I am not here to seek revenge for your snowball. But, I do wish to be with you. Will you not join me?" 

She vaulted to his side, seemingly out of nowhere. "Oh, you're no fun" she gently teased, wrapping her arms around him under his robe, holding him tightly. "I hope you can forgive me. You mentioned throwing snowballs, and I could not control myself. I have never had even one snowball fight, in my entire life. And, I am certain I will pay for it exponentially, at a time and place of your choosing." 

He chuckled. "Probably."

Nenni nestled her face into his silken hair. It shone like spun silver, in the starlight. While she loved her own red hair,  his was surpassingly lovely. Someday, she was going to braid it, just because. 

"Adonnenniel, I have a confession to make. Earlier today, I came here while you were resting. I picked all the fruit on all of the trees, to send to the kitchens for the feast tomorrow. And I sent down several baskets of the almonds. I should have asked you, first."

"You picked and moved  _all_ of it, in that short amount of time?" Just thinking about it tired her. "If you have the energy for such as that, you are hardly going to hear criticism from me. I am glad, as it will be enjoyed. And while I thank you for the courtesy, it is yours in the first place, to do with as you please. You are my King." Given that all she had to do to make more was wave her hands around, she privately thought the far better end of the deal had gone to her.

She slipped her hand into his, and stood next to him, looking at the stars. Without thinking, she sang:

_Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht. Alles schläft, einsam wacht. Nur das traute hochheilige Paar. Holder Knabe im lockigem Haar. Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh! Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh!_

"The religion maybe rubbish, but the songs are pretty. This season was always defined by music, for me. We would sing a...large three hour composition, with our friends who were also musicians. It was very special. Each time around, I would feel the weight of knowing that another year had passed, and that I was still so fortunate as to have so many good people in my life, and the beauty of the music. It filled me with joy to participate, and to sing difficult pieces for others that I'd worked on for years.  It was like...being someone else."

He saw in her mind that what she spoke of was a complex work of music, with many parts. Some was for solo singers, many sections were in four part harmony, and yet others were duets or for the instrumentalists. "What was your favorite part of this? Something you sang?" he asked. 

"Actually, no. It was something written for your kind of voice, a male soloist. And trumpet. A beautiful, silver trumpet. Even though I did not believe the words, there was something about the music. It was greater than any of us. It is hard to explain..." she trailed off. "But now I must make new memories, and not look to what is no longer. Thank you, for indulging my reminiscing. I truly do look forward to sharing this with you, and all that is to follow."

They lingered a few more moments, looking upward at the stars together, before returning back inside. Their evening meal waited for them, and afterwards he led her to sit by the fire. He took her feet once again, and asked to hear more of Harry Potter. She obliged him, though the moans he drew from her at times had little to do with the story she told. It had the effect of steadily arousing him to desire something beyond their usual exchange. When a good place to stop the story finally came along, he took her to bed, having undressed both of them. 

Thranduil turned to Beren, who eyed them sleepily, and silently told the dog to kindly ignore all of what was to follow. The hound flopped his head down and resumed snoring, in short order. 

"I am feeling somewhat determined, Adonnenniel, to hear these same noises from you for other reasons. I believe that you are shy, and fear to be overhead by others through the six foot thick stone walls of this chamber." His voice was serious, but his eyes sparkled. His memories were of how she was, long ago, and how much her far noisier behavior in bed had excited him. 

That look was well-known by now, and in short order she accepted that he would have his way with her. "You wish me to be...more vocal?" she asked, blushing. 

He nodded, with an impish grin. "And I shall know if you are holding back."

"This is unfair, I have never been...like this," she pleaded. 

"You will disobey me?" he asked, dangerously. 

Her apprehension rose a notch; she would fairly term his temperament as "mercurial". He was still too new to her, to parse out whether he was in earnest or in jest. A light skim of his thoughts gave her no information of value. If the latter; she had no wish to provoke him at this hour. "No, my Lord, I will try my best. It is only that ...I do not know how to be different than I am." 

He considered her for a moment, and then threw caution to the wind. He went to the cabinet where he kept his healing supplies. He returned with a small vial. "Drink it" he said. Feeling remarkably like Alice in Wonderland, she did as he instructed. There was no taste, it could have been water. Taking the vial from her, he returned to begin rubbing her feet once again. She realized swiftly, that whatever he had given her was both relaxing her and disconnecting her emotionally. Not a little, but a lot. The feeling was not unlike that of taking a large dose of benzodiazepines, on Earth. As he pressed his thumbs into the arch of her foot, she moaned. "What was th--" 

No more of her question escaped her lips, because his mouth and tongue had found their opportunity. He straddled her so that his already hard member rested on her mound and belly, while his ample sack lay over her entrance. He pinned her hips down in this way as he kissed her slowly, teasingly, propping himself up on one elbow. With his free hand he cupped her breast, moving his hand in slow circles. The pulsing of him on her belly, as he kissed her, filled her with desire. Her attempts to move and thereby gain some stimulation from him were in vain; he had her immobile beneath him. 

Abruptly he moved off of her, spreading her legs. As his tongue found her, she cried out softly at his touch. She was fairly unaware, now, of anything she did. Each lick, nibble or thrust of his tongue brought some sound from her, the only question was how loud. He resumed kissing her, biting down her throat and neckline. He nipped at her skin hard a few times, hard enough to leave a mark. And each time he did so, he slid a finger into her to massage her already very wet passage. She moaned luxuriously for him, with each repetition of his movements. Sucking on her breasts, he let his fingers play softly near her entrance, hinting at what was to come, but he would give her no more stimulation. She arched her back, seeking to rub against his fingers. 

"Please" she asked him. He resumed using his tongue between her legs, this time finding her center of pleasure. He would only give a light lick, or perhaps a small flick of his tongue. Each motion left her wanting much more, caused her to cry out a little, and he would not give it. He felt the surge in her, every time he granted her a tiny bit of what she wanted. Wriggling his tongue into her cleft, he gained the loudest moan thus far. Her breaths came shallowly, so badly did she want him. Finally he covered her body with his, and parked the head of his pulsing member at her entrance, letting her feel it as he kissed her more. She was soaked for him, her wetness now draining down between her thighs. 

"Please," she cried out, in a much stronger voice. Without warning, he sheathed himself in her fully, and she moaned loudly for him. 

"More, meleth," he told her. "I want to hear much more." Her eyes were glassy, and he knew that he had her fully disoriented. He backed out and thrust in again, pushing against her hard. And then he went still, pinning her hips down once again as he kissed her. He now required her to feel his pulsing inside of her, while he only granted her the occasional slight movement. Those movements were rewarded by small moans from her. Leaning to her ear, he whispered, "the more sound I hear, the more I will reward you. If you are silent, I will keep you unrelieved all night." 

She whimpered against him, trying to move. "Yes, my Lord." He felt her almost wishing to cry, but she could not do that either in her present state of mind. All connection to herself was lost; her mind may as well have been in a bowl across the room. 

He dropped his angle of penetration down, so that his head of his shaft rubbed hard against her upper wall. She cried out for him, as he did this, and kept it up with each stroke. As he heard her compliance, he drove into her with slowly increasing speed. Her voice stoked his desire further. He was fascinated; she sang in a high soprano but these sounds were very guttural, deeper in tone than he would have imagined possible for her. They echoed out of her chest and he could feel himself hardening more with every one of them. "You are doing well, meleth, I am pleased. I will satisfy you deeply, and you will scream for me at the end of it." He felt her confusion, but she did not offer resistance. He pulled out of her to lap up her juices, circling her entrance with his tongue. He heard her, and it was no whisper. 

"Please, please" she  begged, lost in her need for relief. When he entered her again, he moved himself in little circles against the sensitive walls of her passage, and she cried out loudest so far. His steady rhythm now brought a torrent of sounds, a long wail that was broken only by the times the sound caught in her throat. He let her begin to build now, her cries egging him on. Her hips arched into his own, taking as much of him as she could. At last she could bear no more, and he changed his thrust to a light fluttering motion, right up against her childbed. He followed this with two hard thrusts that brought his own release, and his own groan along with it. Her orgasm tore through her, and she gave him what he had demanded. A protracted scream at a very high pitch and astounding volume assaulted his ears; it was not merely sound but force. He heard the sound of shattering glass, somewhere across the room. The pleasure of his ejaculation mixed with  pain, and crushing pressure, against his sensitive eardrums. His ears were ringing, and it seemed to him that he was now hearing through a barrier.

The door to their chambers burst open, with two guards just ahead of Galion, running into the room. Immediately, Thranduil shifted himself to her side. With masterful command of the situation, Thranduil held up his hand in a gesture of Halt, shielding their view of her with his body; his back was to them. He spoke clearly and forcefully. "The queen has only suffered a nightmare. I earnestly thank you for your diligence and care, but we are well." The three of them immediately bowed and retreated. 

Nenni sat up in bed as they left, covering her face with her hands. Their entrance had torn her out of her orgasm, leaving her with an indescribably unpleasant sensation in her body. Her skin was flushed a deep pink with embarrassment; she was drugged and disoriented, but not so badly that she did not comprehend what had just happened. Waves of humiliation washed over her, though her reactions were slowed. _How she would ever look Galion in the eye again? The steward was no fool._  Thranduil's thoughts were not difficult to hear; he had had a fine time and to him, the unexpected entrance was uproariously funny. Awash in a delusion of hurt feelings and outrage, she launched over the bed, staggering toward the garden. Desperately,  she had to run away.   _Now._

Before she could take five steps, her bare feet found the shards of a crystal pitcher that had shattered. Falling forward as unexpected pain shot through her,  the jagged pieces first embedded in her feet, followed by her lower legs, knees, hands and chin as she crashed to the floor. It was as though her mind would burst. Hot tears of anger and pain ran down her cheeks as she smashed her fists against the stone floor, unable to sort out her provoked emotions or what had felled her. For the moment, she was lost to reason.

Thranduil was stunned at what had just happened. He had not foreseen this, at all. But it did not take a genius to realize that he had pushed her past her limit. He knew she was reserved in this way, and did not think through that others might burst into the room just after a fragile sexual encounter, if they heard a scream. He rushed to go to her, not yet realizing the extent of the damage. 

The first piece of glass in his own foot caused him to stop, muttering something angrily under his breath as he picked up his foot and realized what it was he pulled out of the bleeding cut. He looked at the shard in his hand, and then at her, and felt crushed. He did not tend his own injury, but quickly found his boots to protect from further damage. Returning to her side, feeling waves of guilt, he placed his hand on her. "Adonnenniel...."

His words made it no further.  In her insensibility, she imagined him as a captor from which to escape, and twisted round to fetch a hefty punch to the side of his face. Raising up, she tried to get her feet under her to run again. He maintained enough presence of mind through the stinging blow to stop her, quickly reaching out and grasping her ankle. She tried to kick and struggle against him, sobbing harder, embedding more glass in her skin. He saw that her mind was in tatters, and was left with no choice. Clutching her to him, he sent her into sleep. 

He could not take time to indulge his own misery, for she needed extensive healing. Raising his eyes to the ceiling, he had to recognize that this was the unintended consequence of his own selfishness. The elixir that gave him exactly what he'd wanted from her in bed was also the cause of his wife lying injured and unconscious in his arms. _Why was I so impulsive?_ _I could have led her around to this same experience, with her full awareness and consent, if only I had shown patience._ Instead he'd drugged her, for instant gratification. He wanted very badly to throw something and smash it, but knew that it would accomplish nothing except adding more debris to the floor. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to focus on what needed doing. The wound in his heel could wait. _I deserve it._

He brought towels, and laid her out on them on top of the worktable, bringing over as many lamps and candles as he could find. Seating himself, he used the point of a finely made knife to help tease out each piece of glass, one at a time, dropping them with a regular plinking sound onto a tray. Methodically, he healed each cut.  There were dozens of the infernally tiny pieces to remove, which gave him plenty of time to wallow in guilt. Finishing at last, he allowed himself to care for his own foot. Rising, he looked at the floor. He could see that there were still pieces, glinting, but cleaning them up would wait. He placed a few chairs at the perimeter of where most of it seemed to be, as a visual reminder to avoid the general area. Sighing heavily, he knew he must now bring the rest of her back. This elixir was not known for being long lasting; it was used on the rare occasions where a healer needed to still communicate with a badly injured patient. While it did not block pain, it did have the effect of keeping the patient from feeling it as intensely.

Carrying her to the chair by the fire, he first wrapped her in a blanket. He stoked up the coals again and added more wood; there might be considerable explaining required of him. Moving his chair very close to hers, he took her hands and gently began to bring her mind back to consciousness. Minutes later, she opened her eyes, looking at him. She blinked, and frowned, trying to make sense of scattered images in her mind that were in a hopeless tangle. There was a feeling of slight disorientation in her mind, perhaps she had had wine? Opening her mouth, she was about to ask a question when suddenly her eyes locked onto his face. Her eyes widened as she removed a hand from his grasp to lightly touch it. "What happened to your face?" she asked, baffled. The only two things she felt certain of were that they had sat here before, and that he had taken her to bed. _He did not look like he'd had a good time_.

He lowered his eyes and said, "You punched me."

Nenni chuckled softly. "My Lord, please, do not jest with me. Your face, it is injured; what really happened?"

"I am not jesting, Adonnenniel," he said, miserably. 

At that moment she flexed her right hand closed to feel a sharp pain. Holding her hand up, she noticed bluish bruising spreading around her swollen knuckles. She swallowed. There was no memory, yet his words and her hand seemed to confirm what he said was the truth. Her eyes widened in dismay. "Díheno nin, Hîr vuin./ Forgive me, my Lord (literally, "beloved Lord").  I have no memory of what you say, I--"

He raised a hand and cut her off. "You are not the one needing to ask forgiveness, Adonnenniel. Please, remain silent and listen to me." For the next few minutes, he told her his narrative of what had happened, in detail. He did not look at her, but nonetheless she covered her mouth with her hands. As he described this absurd chain of events, it was all she could do not to laugh out loud. Thranduil was clearly upset, and she was trying hard to be sensitive to his feelings. But it was a losing battle. By the time he made it to the dozens of glass pieces, she was shaking in her chair with suppressed giggling, tears beginning to run down her cheeks from the laughter. Her firm clamp over her mouth was her only salvation. Finally he looked up to her, his eyes full of remorse. He fully expected a look of wrath. Or tears. There were tears, but his eyes widened. He entered her mind, to be fully certain of the state of mirth she appeared to be exhibiting. 

Hurt and confusion played across his face. "Oh Thranduil, I am so sorry" she giggled, "I do not mean to discount your feelings. It is just that," (more giggles), "this is the funniest thing I have ever heard." (Still more giggles.) "Please, Hîr vuin, I am trying..." 

There was nothing for it.  She was in the grip of laughter, and it would have to work itself out. A good two minutes later, after several false starts, she was finally able to regain control of herself, fanning herself as tears of mirth continued to pour from her eyes. Thranduil had never seen this from her before, and was beyond bewildered. Still fanning, she tried to counteract the sense of heat pouring from her face. She had to say something, but what?  There was still a lingering effect, from the drug, and complete self-possession was far from being hers. 

He beat her to it. "Adonnenniel, how can this be your response to what I have done to you? You should be angry, upset, _something_."

Her finger waggled at him. "You are my husband, and my King, but you do not have the right to tell me how to feel about such a matter. The situation is farcical, and is very funny. It is only that you are too upset to see it."

Usually the issue of any challenge to his authority would bring  an increased and opposite response, but this time, he only looked at her with more bafflement.

She leaned forward to him, taking his hands, looking into his eyes. "Answer me this. Had the encounter ended with both of us having had a fabulous orgasm, and nobody bursting into the room, would you feel as you do now?"

He looked down, thinking. "Probably not. No. I would have thought it an unqualified success."

"There you have it," she said, smirking. "Where it went wrong, was that you were oblivious to two important facts. You did not know how I scream, and you did not know that my voice type can shatter glass under the right conditions. How do your ears feel, by the way?" 

"They are still ringing, if you must know. But this still does not excuse that I drugged you to gain my own pleasure."

"And that is where it becomes very blurry, my Lord," she said, speaking more slowly as a serious mood overtook her. "May I ask, are you in a frame of mind to talk for awhile? This might not be an entirely short conversation."

"I have no intention of leaving this chair until something makes sense to me", he said softly.

"Very well, then. Give me a moment to organize my thoughts. Maybe you could heal your own face, and when I return from finding some water, do something about my hand. It hurts."

He held out his hand in the gesture to stop. "You are barefoot, and I do not trust where the glass may be. Please, stay where you are." He rose to pour her water, and returned, having attended to his bruise. He offered her the goblet, and then took her damaged hand to heal it. 

"Thranduil, I really am sorry, I hope you know, even though I have no memory. I would never willingly raise my hand against you," she said quietly.

"I know," he said, releasing her hand. "Though I still say I deserved it."

She took a long swallow of water, regarding him. "Alright, here we go. This is about...political belief, for lack of better words. The day I came here, you required me to promise subjection to you, in exchange for my life." A long pause elapsed, as she regarded the water in her goblet. "What I don't think you know, is what that cost me, inside of myself. What part of me I had to break and re-form, in order to give you my word. Am I right in thinking that you have only ever known life with kingship, always living under the authority of a king from the day of your birth, until you became one yourself?" 

"Yes, that is correct."

"I tried to tell you that where I came from, there was no King. And you pinned me down for nonetheless knowing how to properly address you. Whereupon I replied that other lands did have kings. And then I swiftly shut myself up, because there was no way that continuing that conversation was going to end well for me, on my knees before you."

"I remember," he said.

"The land of my birth was a young one, by the standards of your life. It was formed only a little over two hundred years previous, around a set of ideals that has never been seen before, or since. We are a patriotic people, calling ourselves Americans. Our country is formally known as the United States of America, a land mass greater than all of Arda, surrounded on the east and west by vast oceans. The population was approaching three hundred million people, at the time of my departure." 

Thranduil's eyebrows shot up, hearing of such an immense land.

"There was a time in our past when the edain living in these lands were under the dominion of  a monarch, the king of a land named England. They were treated poorly; abused, taxed heavily, given no legal or personal considerations. After suffering what they perceived to be a series of many grave injustices at the hands of their king, a great war was waged for independence. At the start of this war, they made a Declaration to their king. This is long, but please listen:

_When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation._ _We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.--That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, --That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security._

Nenni paused, watching him. He had listened with rapt attention, and looked up at her with his eyes wide. She continued.

"They were victorious in the long and difficult war, and afterward, drafted another document, that was called the Constitution. Its beginning is  something that every American holds dear: 

_We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.'_

The document is long, and outlines the structure, duties, and limitations of government. And more importantly, the personal rights and freedoms of all citizens of our nation.  I will not lie, it has been two hundred years of struggle and the ideals did not always hold in reality; in fact, it has been a total shambles from time to time. But in principle; this is how we live, this is how we think. At the center of it was what was called "checks and balances." No one person could ever hold ultimate power; it was designed to have safeguards against corruption and absolute authority. Our biggest perception of ourselves is that we are free. Individual rights and liberties, and the ability to determine the course of our own lives was paramount; a cherished and sacred guarantee that lay at the heart of the freedoms our laws guaranteed us. We gave allegiance to ideals, not a ruler, and we kneeled before no one. We became the greatest nation in our world, in some respects, and many sought citizenship because of the beacon of freedom that they were denied.

So perhaps you can now imagine my experience, a little bit, in hearing the condition you gave me by which to remain alive. Inside of a minute, I had to answer you. I was in pain and could perceive that you were not one with whom to be trifled. I gave serious consideration to accepting execution at your hand, but in the end, I wanted to live. In that moment, I broke every place in my heart in which these ideals dwelled, in order to promise you my subjection. And I embraced, with full acceptance, the terms you offered me."

"Adonnenniel...." he said, but she held up her hand. 

"Please, let me finish," she said. He nodded.

"So let us bring all this thinking forward to the events of tonight. You wish me to be angry with you for what you feel was a violation against me. In my old world, I suppose I might have been. Maybe. It is hard to say. But as I have tried to gently point out before, the rules are different here. It does not matter what I believed, where I came from. I pledged myself to you, and my promises matter to me. You have to understand that no matter what you ask of me, no matter what you do to me, you are first my King; I view myself now as having no rights except what you choose to grant me. If you asked me to crawl on the floor and lick your boots, I would see myself as having no choice, because your authority to demand anything is absolute. Just like your authority to drug me and have your way with me. I recognize that you do not as a generality abuse those under you...but the point is, you are King, and you have the right. In my eyes, you did not do anything wrong, because I agreed to live under these terms. And, you did not intend the evening to go as it did. Yes, maybe you were a wee tad selfish but...so what? Aren't we all, from time to time? You are King." She paused.  "Do you understand?"

Thranduil closed his eyes, thinking his head might split. He'd had not the slightest shred of an notion, on what foundation her compliance toward him rested. In the place of easy familiarity, he suddenly felt a crushing weight of responsibility toward her. What she described was so far removed from his own experience as to be unimaginable. He felt her hand on his shoulder. "Would you hold me, please?" He opened his arms and his lap to her.  Nestling against him, she heard him in her mind.

_I could not have ever guessed at what you have told me. Even with your explanation, there are still few who would view the events of tonight as you do, within this framework of lofty ideals and obligations. Most would simply say, that their husband has been an idiot, with or without a crown. But you are kind, and keep no resentment in your heart, setting an example I pray I can follow in our life together. I am not perfect, Adonnenniel, as husband or King. But I love you, and would do anything for you._

She smiled."Your words are courteous, and appreciated. Can I ask you, Thranduil, what was it you gave me to drink?"

"It is an elixir called Lavaralda, named after a tree of Tol Eressëa. As I am sure you noticed, it relaxes, lowers inhibitions, and dissociates thoughts."

"Interesting. It most certainly does, apparently." For a long while, she paused, trying to find how to ask this after the sum of events this evening. "There is something else, my Lord."

"Yes?"

"I do not know why, exactly, but I am...not at rest in my body, right now. Would you...have me? Please?"

"Adonnenniel...." That was the last word to escape his lips as he rose up and returned them to bed. They joined their minds and bodies. He did not tease her, but did his best to serve her needs. Understanding how much he enjoyed this, she allowed herself to make far more noise than usual, though not at the levels of volume to which he had goaded her earlier. His body responded to her obvious attempts to gratify him. He felt once again thicker, harder, inside of her. She groaned as her enjoyment increased. And when he brought her to this climax, there was no scream but rather the clear and strange two toned vocalization he'd heard earlier, as she clung to him. Her sounds drove him mad with desire, and he released himself into her. His silken hair covered her in ribbons of silver and gold. 

"Thank you," she whispered to him, worn out. Reaching up to kiss him one last time, she was asleep before her head returned to the pillow. He carefully left her body and turned to pull her in  against him. As he closed his eyes, he reflected that she was bottomlessly complex, rare, and that he was beyond fortunate to have her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Díheno nin, Hîr vuin, and Durufuin. The pronunciation is easier than it looks (albeit a challenge for those only used to English). An accent mark ´ means to lengthen the existing vowel. Think "DEE hen o" instead of "DE hen o". Likewise, the stronger circumflex accent ˆ means to hold the vowel yet longer. Think "Heeeerre vween."  
> Durufuin is DOO rrroo fwheeen.  
> All "r's" in Sindarin are rolled, like with an "r" in Spanish. 
> 
> The first long passage quoted in italics was the beginning of the Declaration of Independence of the United States of America...and I sincerely hope that only those reading this who are not US citizens, would need this endnote.


	16. Durufuin, Dawn to Dusk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Solstice, Rhiw 28, Imladris, December 21, Gregorian
> 
> This is a decent version of the Gloucester Wassail, that Nenni sings to Thranduil: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JfncJavzoB8
> 
> Edited, version 2.0

Thranduil woke long before his queen, carefully rising so as to let her sleep. He wanted, if possible, to get the mess of glass cleaned up before she woke. He rang for Galion, who swiftly appeared. 

Bowing, the Steward said quietly, "Suil ned Dhurufuin hen (Greetings at this Yule), my Lord. How may I be of service?"  

After returning the greeting, the King swiftly outlined a minimalist version of last night's accident. "As Eru is my witness, Galion, I did not know a voice could shatter glass," Thranduil said, his head shaking. 

Galion looked at him in sympathy."It grieves my heart to think that the queen may have ill effects from her encounter with the orc, my Lord. I hope with time these fears no longer affect her sleep."

The King smiled. "Thank you for your concern, and your care of us, my loyal friend. I had hoped that we might search out and clean up the remaining glass. She was badly injured when she walked through it unawares, and I had hoped to spare her the sight. If we are quiet, I do not believe she will wake." Actually, he meant to make sure of it. He pushed her just a little deeper into sleep, while they carefully moved chairs and swept and searched for every last tiny fragment of the pitcher. When it was at last done, Galion made certain to remove every last trace of the soiled clothing and linens of the night before. "May I do anything else for you, my King?" 

"No, thank you, Galion. We will take all our meals in the Hall today, in celebration." Thranduil sighed. "It is Yule; I may as well not pretend that anything other than descent into chaos ever comes of these feast days." 

Galion smiled. "As you wish, my Lord. I will do my best to keep a watchful eye on the....chaos." 

Thranduil grinned. "As long as it includes taking copious amounts of time for your own enjoyment, Galion, you will have both my permission and my eternal gratitude." 

Bowing, the Steward retreated. 

Thranduil went to rekindle the fire, and soon had a merry blaze going. The sky was dark this morning. It might snow, but the air did not have the feel that accompanied an outright blizzard. _Not that anything would stop them_ , he thought. He had not forgotten the year that a score of ellyn that had barely come of age ended up in the Healer's Hall with burns, from their insistence on trying to maintain a bonfire outside when it had been blowing a gale. To be truthful, he had to admit that he had managed a few youthful idiocies of his own. He recalled the time that he and three other young ellyn had tried to make a game of who could stand with their backs to the fire for the longest. They had all ended up with burned skin, singed hair, and clothing that was scorched beyond repair. He could still recall the look on Oropher's face when his father had encountered them, occupied in such foolishness. But at least he had been barely past being an elfling, he reasoned. 

He was looking forward to tonight, so much. Watching the beautiful form of his slumbering wife as he drank his morning wine, he saw that she had tossed her arm over Beren once again. The dog often liked to sleep on his back, which caused his lips to fall away from his massive fangs. It gave the impression of a bizarre smile. As he looked on, he saw Beren inhale strangely, roll toward his mistress, and spray her face and head with a massive sneeze. Nenni woke, lurching up in bed, just in time for the dog to do it a second time. Reaching over, she patted him, kissed him on the nose, and mumbled something that sounded like "neezers" before flopping down again. Thranduil decided that he might never understand these two, but that they were certainly amusing.  Her hand reached around to scratch his ears and pat his head as she tried to wake up.    _Are you here?_ As she struggled up out of the covers in which she was tangled, Beren grunted.  He did not like his sleep disturbed. Rolling her eyes, she at last sat up to see her husband watching her as though she were his morning entertainment. 

 _Yes, I am here_ , he sent with a merry expression.

"Am I amusing you adequately, my Lord?" she asked saucily. 

"More or less," he replied, not to be outdone.

"And what would improve upon the 'less', if I may ask?"

His eyebrow raised. "I would like to hear another of your Christmas carols," he replied. She sauntered over to him, nude, and sniffed at his goblet, as her shapely breasts brushed against his cheek. Gently, she took it from his hand, and straightened up. 

 _Wassail, wassail all over the town! Our bread it is white and our ale it is brown: Our bowl is made of a maple tree, So be my good fellows all--I'll drink to thee._  She took a generous swallow of his wine, and continued:

 _The wass'ling bowl with a toast within, Come, fill it up now unto the brim. Come, fill it up that we all may see,_ _With the wassailing bowl, I'll drink to thee._  Raising the goblet to him,  more disappeared before she concluded:

 _Come, butler, come bring us a bowl of the best, I hope your soul in Heaven will rest. But if you do bring us a bowl of the small, Then down shall go butler, bowl and all._ Leaning forward to kiss him, she returned his now diminished beverage to him, while walking off in her best provocative manner to wash herself  in the pool. 

Taking a very deep breath, she dove for the bottom, enjoying the feeling of the rather strong wine going to her head as she twirled slowly. As her air began to run out, she allowed herself to surface very incrementally. This time she took three breaths as she did to stretch for singing; the kind that were so deep that it felt like her ribs in back were pushed outward. She left for the bottom again, deliberately trying to slow her heart rate and other functions as she counted out what she thought were seconds. On a good day, she could get to one hundred and fifty. Having met her goal, she quickly surfaced. Quickly she rubbed away the last traces of last night's passion, and scrubbed her scalp with the lavender soap before diving once more to the bottom to rinse her hair. The wine had left her feeling quite wonderful, really. A towel was already held out to her, which she gratefully accepted. Quickly she dried herself and wrapped her hair. 

"Would you do me the honor of  choosing something for me to wear?" she asked him. Today might be a full blown day off, but she did not like to presume. He selected a gown in several shades of  blue; the primary color was exactly the color of his eyes. There were times she suspected that these pieces of furniture held a bottomless wardrobe, as things she could not recall seeing before always managed to manifest themselves. She climbed into the leggings and warm leather boots that went with this, and he helped her into the dress itself. It laced in back, and he expertly closed the ties for her. 

Ushering her to sit near the fire, he combed out her clean hair. "Do you wish any braids today? Perhaps something special?" 

"Can you do a waterfall braid?" In her mind, she showed him what to do. "There would need to be a tie or some kind of closure, if such a thing exists." 

"Have faith in me, meleth," he said kindly. 

She laughed. "Goheno nin. (Forgive me.) Can you tell I spent half a lifetime micromanaging people who were not quick learners?" Nenni was so grateful for his skill with hair. She remembered how hard it had been to try to contort her arms to do elaborate hairstyles. When she could pull it off at all, it had been a Herculean effort, and her results were nowhere close to his. Anything he did looked like it was from a professional at a salon. 

He was almost finished, and handed her a small box. "Here is your closure. Open it." 

She did so, and her chest tightened. It was a hair comb, with one of his magnificent fire opals set into the center of it. The silver steel in which it was mounted was in an openwork pattern set with dozens of small diamonds. _It is so very beautiful_ , she thought, tilting it to watch the colors transform in the light. _Like a thousand pretty things, crammed into the smallest imaginable space._ Coming to her senses, she said "Thranduil, I do not know how to thank you. It is just as well it is intended for my hair, or I would stare at it all day. You are far too good to me." Carefully, she held the box up to him. He took the comb and anchored it. To her relief, she could feel it grab very firmly into her hair. To lose something like this would be unthinkable. 

"You need not fear that, meleth. It has a special clasp built into it, to safeguard against it going anywhere. You will probably find that it cannot be removed by you without assistance." 

"Good. I will take the hair headache as a badge of honor. Anything not to lose it," she said. 

"What is a hair headache?" he asked, puzzled.

"It is when a hairstyle or hair ornament pulls on one's scalp with uneven pressure. As the hours of the day wear on, it becomes painful and can eventually even cause a headache. Perhaps your crown will do this to you, if worn for a very long time? Or not. But that is what we called it on Earth."

"If this occurs, you are to tell me. I will stop it." 

Smiling to herself at his solicitude, she answered: "Yes, Hîr vuin, I will. May I leave the chair? Thank you, so much, for everything," she said with genuine appreciation. 

"Yes, but do not go far." 

Standing to stretch, she gazed at herself in the mirror. The dress was beautiful, and so was her hair.   _How can this be my life?_ she asked herself, and not for the last time. With some craning around, the back of the gown was viewed as best she could manage; it was cut in a traditional Irish style, or something like it. _I should not wear blue so infrequently; it is really quite pretty._ Thranduil came up behind her, and in one swift motion placed a choker around her throat. At its center was another of the large opals; this one had a primarily bluish cast. Suspended below it was a teardrop sapphire. To the right and left of the openwork precious metal that held the opal,  matching oval cut sapphires were also mounted. She was rendered speechless. Each of the opals in his gifts were larger than ten carats, and of surpassing quality.  As she looked at herself in the mirror, with Thranduil standing behind her, a tear spilled over onto her cheek. He was far lovelier than any of these jewels...but if she was going to be honest, she really, really liked this necklace. Turning, she reached up to him, her eyelashes wet with moisture. Nenni did not dare speak, or many more tears would ensue. As he lifted her up, she wrapped her arms tightly around him and buried her face in his neck after a kiss to his cheek.

He understood that these things were overwhelming for her, but it did not stop her from deserving them, in his eyes. He raised her head up, pressed his lips to her forehead. "I greatly enjoy to see you wear these, and I am happy that you like them so much, my hopelessly modest queen." 

She smiled at hearing this, and finally managed to whisper, "Thank you, Thranduil. Thank you."  He returned her to the ground.  "Would you excuse me for a little while? I need to do something in the garden," she told him. 

"Of course. We will break our fast in the Great Hall; if you are not back in twenty minutes, I will come call for you." He added, "Galion helped me to clear the floor of all the broken glass, you need not fear walking on any." At the mention of Galion, he saw her flush and look down. He raised up her chin. "Meleth, I spoke with him this morning while you slept. He sincerely believes that you screamed last night because you were having a nightmare about having been attacked by the orc. I said nothing to convince him otherwise. You need not fear. He has been my faithful servant and friend for as long as I have ruled in these Halls. Even were he to stand by our bed watching us make love, he would only feel pleased that we enjoyed each other. There is no one in this realm, save perhaps Legolas, more sincerely interested in our welfare."

"Yes, Hîr vuin," she replied simply, and curtsied deeply to him. Thranduil could see that she was unable to speak much right now, still stunned by his gifts. This was her idiosyncratic way of telling him that she accepted his words.  She backed away from him with her head bowed, and then turned to walk slowly to the garden. Whatever she intended to do, it was not at the surface of her mind. He found her to be one of the most convoluted persons he had ever met. There was always some new twist or turn that he did not expect. He refilled his goblet, smiling to himself. He had rather liked this other song better, that she sang. Anything about alcohol was certainly suited to the occasion. Perhaps he could cajole more than one song out of her, tonight. He settled into a chair, to enjoy the memory of the expression on her face.

Nenni did not know if this holiday was a gift-giving occasion and he had not told her, or if it was just another one of his fits of generosity that had caused him to bestow these lavish jewels. She could not hope to match what was in his power to give, but in the back of her mind an idea had rolled around for some days now. And she would know shortly if it were possible. Tonight seemed to be about lights and cheer and fire. It would be fitting, if she could make him a crown of the flowers of Vána. Already she could imagine him wearing it, the golden illuminated flowers wreathing his hair of palest gold. She realized she lacked the power to enchant a crown like the one he wore, but these flowers had light and staying virtue of their own. And, anything she made would not die in a matter of hours, that much was certain. Come to think of it, her husband had a great deal of magical ability that she did not really comprehend. It somehow seemed disrespectful to ask. He was ancient and powerful, and she need not know more. Though she now understood she was his same age in spirit, it could never feel the same on account of the loss of her memories. When she reached the garden, she saw that he had spoken truly; all the trees were bare of fruit. She allowed herself about ten minutes to correct some of that. The sight of the ripe apples and plums and pears cheered her, so she worked on those. And there were still almonds for the magpies.

Raising her skirts, she walked to the bower, pondering. Should there be a base of cedar, for his crown? Or birch? He smelled like the former, but the latter tree was a symbol she had noticed all around the palace. Birch bark was pale and lovely in the wintertime, it might suit. Walking to one of the birch trees, she snapped off a twig. Three passes of a Turk's head weave, as an intricate openwork scaffold for the flowers, would be admirable. Mentally she recalled the size of his head, and how her hands had fit on it, and took her best guess. It took all the concentration she could manage, to work the weave. Patterns were always hard for her; the mental focus was something she found difficult to execute without making a single error. When she sailed on the ship, she would often have to undo elaborate marlinespike seamanship to correct a mistake, and begin again. But she did manage this time, triumphantly connecting the ends. Only a very skilled eye could spot the closure. The wood was white and delicate under her fingers, but strong. She ordered it to thicken just a little, for balance. Her skin was already dewy and perspiring from the effort; at no time had she ever attempted something this exacting or intricate. Next, came the moment of truth. 

Kneeling down, she considered the flowers of  Vána; noting how the blooms were structured on the stems. Having the blossoms circle only three quarters of this crown would look best; the front should only frame his face and follow his hairline, in the same way his diadem did. Picking one of the precious stems, she ordered it to multiply itself, anchoring along the weave of a single strand of the birch bark. Once it had filled out enough, she asked it to bloom. Half of the blossoms were set in full bloom, and the other half were left at quarter to half bloom. Holding her handiwork in front of her, she felt very pleased. It was a living thing of exquisite beauty, unique in all Arda, and fit for the great Elvenking. Gently, she set it down on the bed of the bower. Tonight, after dark, it would be given to him. At that time the light of the flowers would shine, and it would be even more enchanting to look on. Lifting her skirts again, she turned toward their chambers, stopping briefly to pick a particularly fragrant red rose.  And on afterthought, she made a collar of white blossoms for Beren. _What was a holiday without a few frills?_ Its sweet perfume fragranced her return to their chambers. 

Approaching her husband, she placed the red rose in his hand, closing his fingers around it. Nenni looked up at him, smiling. It did not escape his attention that the hair around her face was damp from perspiration. He frowned. He had more than half a mind to find out what she had been doing to physically exert herself, dressed as she was. He had never seen her do anything in the garden that could take significant effort, which is what had him so intrigued. Seeing his thoughts, she laughed. "If my Lord will please indulge me until this evening, all will be made plain." She poured herself some tea, and sat down, lifting her heavy hair carefully off of her neck so she might cool down. It surprised her, how draining that little bit of crafting had been; apparently there was a much higher level of energy needed for extremely detailed work? Beren rose and stretched, coming over to sniff her. Smelling the salty perspiration, he began to lick her around her hairline. She moaned at how good it felt, but she did not let him go too far out of respect for the work Thranduil had done on her hair. "That is enough, silly dog. Here, this is for you." She placed the flowers around his neck, whereupon he looked unimpressed. "I left the garden door open for you, Beren, hurry back for breakfast." Giving her a nondescript sound of some kind, he lumbered off to relieve himself. "Eggs" she called after him, at which he picked up his pace considerably. She laughed.

Thranduil had dressed himself resplendently, and soon the three of them were off to the Great Hall. Those in the Palace had become accustomed to the sight of the King and queen's great hound. He was thought very attractive, and unusual. Word had managed to spread about just what he could do in battle. It was difficult to reconcile the reports of the savagery of this animal against the orcs, versus his almost too calm demeanor when with the King and queen. They were proud to have him in the caverns. 

Nenni saw immediately that today was different. The atmosphere was much more animated, and those who did not have duties requiring otherwise were dressed in finer clothing. The delicious and potent beverage in which she had indulged herself was seen to be flowing freely. She smiled. Though she was introverted, she did enjoy what she called "people watching." It fascinated her, just to sit alone, watching others interact. All rose for them, and what sounded like a mass murmur of "Suil ned Dhurufuin hen" rose up toward them. Thranduil inclined his head, and it was so interesting to her that she almost forgot to curtsey to him. She caught herself before it could become obvious, quickly dipping down. Chagrined, she wondered where her head was; it was unlike her to not be acutely aware of protocol with her King. Perhaps she'd had more wine than she thought?

The meal had delicious...things, never seen before by Nenni. Thranduil could tell her the names, but as she did not know the ingredients, it was not helpful information. No matter, she was hungry and she ate them. Half a dozen hard boiled eggs were cracked and slipped discreetly to Beren. She had grabbed extra napkins, and told him that he must only slobber on them, and not her gown. He still looked at her mournfully. There were few things anyone with a heart was equipped to resist, and hound dog eyes filled with longing were one of them. He did not usually care for vegetables, but just then she spotted a plate of sliced breads. Asking Thranduil if he might pass them over, she took one and buttered it for herself, and then proceeded to use her other hand to slip Beren slice after slice. Once the plate was becoming conspicuously empty, she leaned over to tell him "no more, we shall both be in trouble."  With a grunt, he laid down at her feet, sighing. He'd had enough, but it was in his nature to always try for more. She smiled, and returned her attention to her own plate, when she felt a sensation of being watched. Turning her head, she saw that Thranduil had an eyebrow raised in good humor. He had seen the entire thing. Flushing, she began to slice at the piece of meat on her plate with rapt concentration, ignoring him. He poured her wine, and nudged it to her. 

"Drink", he said, smiling. He knew she liked the taste of it. She took a swallow, and immediately felt it rush to her head. She placed the goblet down, and resumed eating. "Finish it," he said. 

Her eyes widened. 'My Lord, I dare not. It is too strong for me."

"Adonnenniel, it was not a request." 

 _This is going to go well_ , she thought acerbically. With the goblet in her hand, she turned to him. "I beg you, please at least spare me public humiliation." Privately all she could think was, _I hope you know what you are doing._ Drinking, she enjoyed. Being drunk....frightened her. The sickness, the total loss of control over herself...she had learned to be very careful. Draining the goblet, she figured she had about ten minutes before everything went completely to hell. As she placed it back down, she reflected that she could not ever recall being commanded to drink too much. These elvish holidays were clearly.... peculiar. Their meal being finished, they rose to walk back to their chambers, which was about a five minute walk. She walked holding Thranduil's arm, as always, and it did not escape her attention that he had a very firm grasp on her. "Since I am losing coherence rapidly, if you would ensure Beren's flowers are taken off of him when we return, I'd appreciate it" she told him, knowing the clock was ticking. As they approached their door, the familiar dissociation and sense of being in a tunnel came over her. Every step, every thought that formed in her head, now took extra effort and attention. He seated her on the stone bench, and brought her water to drink. 

On principle, she did not drink alcohol until at least mid to late afternoon. _And today, I am well on my way to full blown drunkenness just after breakfast?_ She giggled to herself just at the thought of it, as her mind tried to keep up with even the simplest things. Flopping over hard on her side, she thought that was funny too and laughed. _Oh this was not going to be good._ She closed her eyes, remembering to breathe. Thranduil lifted her upper body back to a sitting position, sitting down next to her. "Why?" she asked him, looking up to his eyes. 

He smiled. "An experiment. I wish to understand your limits." 

Peals of laughter ensued. "You could have asked me, my Lord. It is simple enough. This is drunk, and what follows is being sick and drunk.  I would very much like it if your fact finding mission did not include the latter."

"But that would be no fun, and besides, I have ulterior motives. Drink the water, Adonnenniel." He held the goblet to her lips. Once she had drained it, he took it from her. "You are still very tired, and will need your strength. The midday meal is much later today, on account of the feasting tonight. You are to sleep until the next meal, for you will have no rest afterward."

Mild protest ensued, as she felt herself slipping away. "Thazz not fair. Please, the bed. And a blanket." He lifted her up, and placed her on the bed, covering her. She rolled onto her side, which is how she preferred to sleep. "Thrannnnduil, I..." she stopped. Even she could hear her slurred speech. _Thranduil, I do not always rest well this way. The alcohol makes me insensible but I do not sleep; I only appear to, while remaining very much aware. If you wish me to sleep, please do ...whatever it is that you do._

Nenni felt his warmth as he lay next to her and pulled her in close. For what seemed like several long minutes, she had the pure happiness of feeling surrounded by him. She relaxed more, and more, with every passing second of this time, and then was gone. He rose, smiling, to let her rest. It was his intention to oversee how matters were unfolding in the Halls. Looking around, he frowned. The last time he had left her alone, she was attacked. And while he personally felt that there was zero chance anything could happen after his magical enhancements of the room, he was done with taking risks. Should the worst happen, in her current state she would be completely defenseless save for Beren. He rang for Galion, who swiftly appeared, to have an extra guard sent to be just inside the door. He also verified that the rear passage was sealed. His mind at ease, Thranduil left his chambers. 

He did not often leave her side, for any reason. Many affairs were managed now via messages borne by Galion, that he would formerly have attended to in person. But much of that was an attempt to drown his sense of loneliness. It was not what he had craved, but it had provided him with enough interaction to endure. As he rounded a passageway corner, lost in his thoughts, he suddenly collided with Tauriel, who had been similarly mentally occupied but moving at a far more rapid pace. She fell backward, her head hitting the stone floor with a sickening crack. Pain flared in her eyes, but ever a warrior, she made no sound. Immediately the King was at her side, pinning her to the floor so that she remained still. "I am sorry, Hîr vuin, I was not attentive..."

"Tauriel. Hush. Do not move." 

His fingers moved through her hair, and she gritted her teeth. She did not care for the touch of others, but could hardly strike out at her King. Again. Still, she felt ashamed of what she had done that day, even though he had forgiven her.  

"You are bleeding, Tauriel, and the wound is large enough to require healing." 

"I will go to the Healers, my Lord, as soon as my errand is done." 

He sighed, expecting something like this. "You will not. You will turn on your side when I tell you to, facing away from me." He swiftly removed his robe and folded it enough to make a cushion for her head. "Now, please." 

She obeyed him, gritting her teeth even harder. 

"Lie still. This will not take long." His fingers found the margins of the wound, which he began to knit back together magically. Swiftly, he stopped the bleeding, and completed the repair. "Tauriel, may I have your permission to look more deeply, to make sure there is no damage that is unseen? I will not enter your thoughts." 

She had heard that he could do this, and found it extremely unsettling. The mere idea, of someone poking around in her mind...

"Tauriel?" 

"I am sorry, Hîr vuin. Yes, you may." She did not want this, but what could she refuse him after he'd spared both her life and her position in his service?  

A few seconds later, he rose. "All is well, the injury is no more." He offered her his hand. 

Realizing he was only trying to be kind, she reluctantly took it, and he helped her up. "Len hannon,  Hîr vuin. A  suil, ned Dhurufuin hen. I take my leave of you." Tauriel bowed to him, and he inclined his head to her. Disappearing faster than a released wildcat, she left. 

He had wanted, at times, to tell her how much he owed to her, but he knew she had no wish to hear it. Tauriel was untamable, and he had left her in the best possible circumstance in which to  thrive. He smiled, making his way to the storerooms, the kitchens, and the guarded entrances.

Tauriel did not trust festivals. It was a time when everything grew lax, including security. After what had happened to the queen not one month prior, she was on heightened alert. Much to the annoyance of those under her, she had organized extra patrols that would cover the perimeter of the Palace grounds. Everyone would still have a chance to make merry...in greater safety.

Thranduil continued on his walk, looking in on all the little preparations, enjoying the more animated greetings and smiling faces that he passed. Even he was at a loss to fully explain his happiness. Though, much of it probably had to do with his plans for the evening. He meant to crown her as his Queen, tonight, at the feast. Adonnenniel was already fulfilling many of the duties, and it was his prerogative to confer this if he chose. Already she had told him she would accept it, when he felt the time was right. And how could the time be more right, than on this celebration that marked the ending of the longer nights? The symbolism did not escape him. His life had been a span of figurative nighttime. 

The only question was one of choosing a co-rulership, versus a rule which left him vested with the greater authority. In his eyes, she had proven her right to the former, but he knew in his heart which she would choose. He was still struggling to process what she'd told him last night, about the land of her birth, and admitted he could not be fully certain of her desire in this matter.

Little would change for her, except that she would now have the authority to make decisions without having to rely on using him as her mouthpiece. Passing though his throne room, he eyed the platform on which he sat. He'd had the woodcarvers busy for weeks creating a new throne, but nothing would change until after the simple ceremony. He walked up the stairs and sat, casting his eyes around the Halls as he'd done countless thousands of times. This would be the very last time he sat in this place as its sole ruler, he reflected. His gratitude, to no longer bear the burden alone, was bottomless.

After one last stop at the Great Gates, he began the return to his chambers. Entering one of the smaller passageways, he rounded a corner and was crashed into headlong by Tauriel, a second time. Swiftly he reached forward, to keep her from a second fall, and quickly righted her, backing away after he had done so. Her face began to turn every shade of pink and red as she struggled to find words. Thranduil leaned back against the stone wall and burst into helpless laughter. 

"Hîr vuin..." Tauriel stammered. 

He raised a hand to silence her. His eyes full of merriment, he spoke. "May I ask, Tauriel, what is consuming your attention so much this early afternoon?" 

"Security, my Lord. I am uneasy, after the many recent events, that the merrymaking of this evening leaves us with lowered alertness and defenses. My time is better spent ensuring the safety of the Palace than in wine and dancing. I will not hear of a second breach of these Halls, if it is within my ability to prevent it." 

Thranduil was sincerely touched, to hear this. "Then you have my thanks, Tauriel. But if your King may ask something of you, please grant yourself some time to celebrate, even if for only an hour or two. I fear our troubles will increase soon enough. We must allow ourselves to recall why it is we endure them. I take my leave of you," he said kindly, as he inclined his head to her. 

The Commander bowed to him, and backed away. But not many paces later, she stopped, to think. He had changed, utterly. And while a part of her wished it were otherwise, there was a wisdom in what he'd just said to her that she could not deny.  She looked down at the floor. One last errand, and she would find a gown to wear this evening. For a little while.

Entering their chamber quietly, Thranduil nodded his dismissal to the guard. It was about another half hour before the next meal. Beren was sound asleep, dreaming. His feet moved, and he was barking in an undertone. Looking in, Thranduil saw that he was giving chase to a lone orc that he was eager to kill. Smiling, he walked to his wife. She had not moved, and still slept soundly.  And she would continue to do so, if he did not recall her. He lay down next to her again, holding her, so that she might waken in the same way she had been made to sleep. Very gently and slowly, he brought her back. 

Slow, deep sighs eventually led to the opening of her eyes. _How long was I asleep?_ she asked, backing further into his warmth. 

 "About six hours, meleth. How do you feel?" 

_No idea. But I suspect I am about to find out. If you are waking me, it must be time to get up?_

He chuckled. "Yes, it is."

 "I shall not make any progress, if you keep me pinned to you in this rather wonderful position," she added drily.

"I see." Quicker than she would have believed possible, he had scooped her out of bed and set her on her feet, holding her to make sure she did not fall. "Is this better?"

After assuring herself that all traces of her bout with the morning wine were gone, and finding her balance, she craned her head to look up at him from the side. "I cannot say. I am too busy trying to decide whether I like or dislike that you can move my body around as though I were a rag doll. But I'm leaning more toward the former," she smirked, and turned to embrace him. 

He picked her up into his arms. "It is well, because I like my rag doll," he said, teasing. 

She groaned in exasperation, but took the opportunity to kiss his cheek. "I hated dolls. I wished to play with boy's toys. And ride horses."

"And little has changed, meleth," he laughed. "Are you hungry? The next meal is soon." Beren's head raised, and he looked at them hopefully. 

"Well, someone is," Nenni deadpanned. "So either way, food will vanish from my side of the table." She looked at Thranduil suspiciously. "Will you be requiring me to get drunk at this meal as well?" 

"No," he said, his eyes sparkling. "But you will thank me later, because it was to learn your body's limits, so that you might survive the evening."  

Her gaze fell on him, then turned to the darkening sky out the window. "Why do I have the feeling that I have no idea what I am in for?" she muttered under her breath.

 "Have faith, meleth. I will not allow you to falter." 

Turning back to him, she smiled. "If I did not, I would already be a league down the forest path, orcs or no orcs. I place myself in your care, as always. You did not stay with me that entire time, did you?" 

"No meleth, I looked in on many things in the Palace. But I assigned a guard, to be in the chambers but out of your sight should you have waked. And Beren was here as well. I will never leave you unprotected again." Nenni felt touched, at hearing this, and did not know quite what to say.

Soon enough, they were enjoying the meal while Beren slumbered on. The Great Hall felt like a living organism, this afternoon. The energy level was much higher than breakfast, like a snowball that was taking its first few rolls from the top of the hill on its way to much greater momentum. 

He explained: "Mostly this meal is designed to provide some sustenance against the drinking that will commence soon after the sun has set. The serious feasting gets going in about four hours." 

She nodded, enjoying watching the bustle of smiling faces chattering away down below. On a platter, she saw something that looked suspiciously like noodles, and asked Thranduil if she might try some. Tentatively poking her utensil into it, she found that if it was not pasta, it tasted exactly like it. But it was buttery and had a taste of cheese and some other delicious thing, she did not care what. _The day could end now, just leave me here with this plate_ , she thought. The food was devoured ass politely as she could accomplish, in full view of the public. "May I have more, please?"  She couldn't get over it. It was better than the best handmade pasta she'd ever made, and with her own wheat flour and fresh eggs and designer olive oil from other farmers, she had made a lot. Apparently fairy dust was sprinkled into everything, here. Every bite was delicious enough to make her cry. This had been one of her favorite foods, and she'd missed it badly. When her plate was empty once again, she felt chagrined. She wanted more, but didn't wish to make a spectacle of herself. But...this was pasta. Deciding she did not care if she was chided or teased, she asked him again, "May I please have more?"

Thranduil had eaten enough to be less occupied with his own food, and now noticed that she wanted a third helping of  noodles. And that she had eaten nothing else. He served her, without comment, but now paid attention. This was a common dish, but it was not one to which he gravitated, so it did not appear in their chambers. He could and would soon rectify that, now realizing that it was an extreme favorite of hers. On a hunch, he asked, "Would you like some fish with it? It is delicious." 

"Yes please," was the unhesitating reply. "But not too much." Even she had to admit that fourths were probably out of the question. By the time her plate was cleared, she knew she had reached the limit. Looking wistfully at the platter, she sighed. 

Thranduil leaned down and said "Meleth, you can have noodles often. I did not know you cared for them so much." 

Her face brightened immediately. "I love you." 

He smiled. If she had to choose between the jewels at her throat or the platter of noodles, he knew which would win. And he loved her for it.

Back at their chambers, the light was waning from the sky. Thranduil coaxed the fire back to life as her eyes followed his motions. "Should you ever tire of doing that, I am technically capable", she offered. "I don't wish to be one of those lazy people who never helps." 

"Technically capable?" he asked. 

She laughed. "I am fully able to manage fires in fireplaces and wood stoves. It is just that Michael was a fireman, and he was better at it than I. So usually he did the work. But I do know how."

"What is a fireman?"

"It can be a male or female, but it is an occupation of one who extinguishes fires. Forests and fields can catch fire, homes catch fire. People might need rescuing from the danger. Many times they have entered burning buildings to try and save those inside who were hurt or had lost consciousness. They are honored; they save lives while doing dangerous and difficult work. But Michael was a forest firefighter, which is another word for fireman."

"How do forests catch fire?" Thranduil asked, adding another piece of wood. 

"Sometimes by human activity, like arson or a careless campfire. But almost always, from storms that bring lightning."

Thranduil rose, and walked to her. "I thank you, for your offer. We have customs here, for family life. One of those is that the ellon cares for the warmth of the home. And serves food to his elleth. So it would be very strange for me, to not do this. And, I enjoy it." 

Nenni looked taken aback. "I am sorry, I was not aware."

"Adonnenniel, I know this. You offered out of kindness. I am not offended." 

 She looked blankly into the fire. "Thranduil, are there things I should do by custom that I do not? None of this occurred to me." He came to her and lifted her into his arms. "No, there is not. Not yet. The customs were born somewhat out of the natural inclinations of the sexes. They are not meant as rules but are....customs. If you badly wished to light the fire, I would manage," he smiled. "And, a time may come in which there are duties in our home that only you can perform. Such as birthing and nursing a child. What the ellon does is meant to honor that there are some contributions he cannot make to family life, only the elleth can." Nenni was floored. Half of life on Earth was marred over the unequal sharing of responsibilities inside a home. Here the solution was elegant, respectful and...beautiful. 

"You are welcome to care for the fire," she said. "And thank you for telling me these things. If there is more, I should like to know. I should not be so ignorant of elven life, wedded to a King. Tinivel had brought me a book that I used to read, before I came to live with you here, about elves. There were many chapters I did not complete."

"I cannot imagine why," Thranduil said, grinning. 

Nenni blushed red. "Do you have any idea what it was like for me, the day you came to that room? My heart still can sink, thinking on what it felt like to turn around and see you there." 

"I have some idea, because I can see it now in your thoughts. I did not approach you with an intent to terrorize you, Adonnenniel."

"I know. Everything was overwhelming, then. Especially you," she smiled, leaning in to kiss him. "I suppose I got past it. Mostly. You are still frequently overwhelming."  

"Oh? In what way?" 

"You are......Thranduil," she said, as if that was a perfectly obvious explanation.

"I can see I must extract this from you at another time, my little imp."

She only smiled, in return. The light had gone, and now darkness filled the sky. There was no starlight, as it was fully overcast. 

"Put me down, please?" 

"Do you tire of my arms, so soon?" he teased. 

She resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him. "No, but if you would like your present, I should go retrieve it. Or you may carry me, the choice is yours entirely." 

"Where to?" he asked. "The garden?" 

"Yes, the bower."

"So you have been up to something? Is this the cause of you being so tired, first thing in the morning? You are becoming very skilled at burying your thoughts from me, Adonnenniel."

"Well I have to do something now and again, or else how can I ever surprise you?" she fired back. "Besides, it isn't much, just something I thought you might like to have for tonight. And if you want a surprise, you will have to stay out of my head for the time it takes to get there, as I cannot keep my thoughts in check much longer."

Thranduil carried her to the bower, and she asked him to stop. She may as well size it, before he saw it.  "Set me down please, and close your eyes until I tell you to open them." Nenni took him by the hand and led him. "The stone bench is right in front of you, would you please sit?" Once he was settled, she picked up the crown. As she thought might happen, the appearance of it in the dark was exquisite. The plantings of the flowers of Vàna provided enough illumination of the bower to give a soft glow. After combing her fingers through his hair a few times, she lifted it to hold it over his head. She had done very well, it appeared to be a perfect fit. Placing it on him, she backed away a few steps. "You may open your eyes now. I can adjust how it fits, if you tell me what might be needed." To herself, she thought, _every now and then I do something right._ She realized that perhaps not everyone was similarly so besotted with him, but at least to her eyes, this was a show-stopper.

"I must return to your thoughts Adonnenniel, or a mirror, if I am to see this." 

"Of course," she said. " Thank you for letting it be a surprise, I hope you like it." 

He entered her mind to see himself through her eyes, and his lips parted in astonishment. "May I take it off to look at it?" he asked. 

She smiled. "It is yours, you may do whatever you wish with it."

Removing it carefully, he examined it. The craftsmanship was exquisite, and there was nothing else like it. The thoughtfulness in this piece stunned him. The use of birch, the flowers of Vána from the day their bond had been declared eternal and unbreakable, the light of the flowers for the fire night...and that once again, she had taken nothing and with her imagination and effort, made it into something priceless. Her gifts were ones that lay beyond the reach of wealth or power. He knew that she had loved him before, in their old life, but this was different. He felt loved by her here, now, in a way he had never known before. Her fae blazed in his vision as brightly as the flowers on this crown. He replaced it on his head, closing his eyes. A tear spilled down each cheek. 

"That bad, huh?" she teased softly. 

His eyes opened. "Oh, Adonnenniel," he said, gathering her into his lap, holding her tightly. She returned his embrace, genuinely happy that this pleased him so much. 

"My only regret is that I do not know how soon it will fade. I have no power to keep it as it is, outside these walls. I am certain it should last the evening, for you to wear. You are always comely, in my eyes. But wearing this...I believe no one will look finer. It exceeded my hopes. I love you, very much, Thranduil." She kissed his cheeks. "Would you forgive me if I went inside to find some more clothing? It is cooling down quickly, for me."

"I will be just a few steps behind you, meleth, please feel free," he smiled. She skipped off toward the eastern passage, happy. He removed the beautiful crown from his head, looking in the direction she had gone. "You may not have the power to keep it as it is, meleth, but I do," he whispered to her retreating form. He had not told her that it was in this precise spot that he laid the enchantment on his own crown; it had simply never come up in conversation. Holding it in his hands, he closed his eyes and whispered ancient words. He felt the power beneath him well up and move through his hands, and saw the glow of power absorb into the object that now would never die. He would wear this, with gratitude, for the next several hours. It would then become her own, when he crowned her as his Queen. Replacing it on his head, he departed. Yule had begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goheno nin...is another way to say "forgive me." GO hen o neeen. In words with three or more syllables, it is the syllable third from the end that takes the emphasis. 
> 
> Her hair ornament would have looked like this, but with yet more bling: https://www.google.com/search?q=fire+opal+hair+ornaments&biw=1345&bih=858&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwiE4qfJtOrMAhVL2mMKHa1vDEYQsAQIGw#imgrc=MIsW05sRHPmgsM%3A
> 
> The necklace would be along these lines: https://www.google.com/search?q=fire+opal+choker&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjI_KKGterMAhVU12MKHbF0APAQ_AUICCgC&biw=1345&bih=858#tbm=isch&q=fire+opal+choker+with+sapphires&imgrc=GgnfGylUyeokrM%3A
> 
> This is a turk's head weave. Imagine it with only three strands of wood, and space between the strands: https://www.google.com/search?q=turk%27s+head+weave&espv=2&biw=1295&bih=963&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwj69qmQjMTOAhVU1GMKHe7lCPkQ_AUIBygC#tbm=isch&q=turk%27s+head+three+strand+weave+crown&imgrc=ff4y4DdRus_DgM%3A


	17. Durufuin, Dusk to Dawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Solstice, Rhiw 28-29, Imladris, December 21-22, Gregorian
> 
> Tawarwaith: "tawar+ gwaith"=Forest people. Another word for the Silvan elves.
> 
> Version 2.0, edited.

Thranduil found Nenni in her own chamber, staring blankly into the wardrobe. Surely there was something in here, that made a suitable wrap or robe? She did not see it, but smiled to see him. "Help! As usual, I am fashion-impaired. What matches this, that will keep me warmer?" A frown passed over her brow. "Though, I never thought to ask...this is an outdoor celebration? Or...?" she looked up at him, a ball of confusion.

"Goheno nin (I am sorry), I have done a terrible job of explaining this, meleth. Though there are opportunities to go outside the palace and create mayhem, it tends to be only the younger ellyn that gravitate to that. Give or take mischief, the celebration is mostly in two places. We eat in the Great Hall. But we will not sit up above; a place will be made for us down below. The dancing and music and socializing takes place in one of the large training yards. The military items are cleared away, and fires are built to keep the area warmer. A temporary enchantment to ward off bad weather helps with this as well. This keeps people moving all night long between eating and drinking and dancing, in the two locations. Long ago we tried to keep it all in the Great Hall, and the kitchen staff threatened to mutiny. For many long years, it has been as you will see it tonight. At times when you are resting, you will want a wrap. No one remains cold, dancing," he smiled. 

Her eyes widened as she grasped his hands. "Oh, my. Thranduil, I love you; I know how important this is to you, and I will give this my full effort. But if I begin to crumble inside, for the love of all there is, do whatever....it is that you do, and help me. I am stepping out to the edge of my personal tree limb, and I will confess I am a little afraid." 

He held her to him, privately thinking of her reaction the first time he told her of this event and the complete meltdown that had ensued. _She has come such a long way_ , he thought. "I will not allow you to falter, Adonnenniel. Have no fear; I will watch over you and will not leave your side."  

"And for this, I am grateful."

He swiftly found a hooded gray robe the color of her eyes, that complimented her dress. It was made of soft, warm, abundant fabric. _Almost like having a wearable blanket_. "Thank you."  Pleased, she brought his untouched goblet to him. 

"You first," he smiled. She indulged him by taking a tiny sip, and offering it back to him. He did not accept it. "You must do better than that." Inwardly, Nenni groaned. 

"Trust me," he said softly. Closing her eyes, she took what she would call a healthy swallow before offering it back to him again. Thranduil accepted and drank, then tilted her chin up to claim her mouth. He tasted of wine, and sweetness. Tenderly, he kissed her for many minutes. Pulling back gently, he offered her the goblet again. "One more, like the first."  The wine burned pleasantly down her throat to settle into her belly. He drank once more, setting the now empty goblet down for good and kissed her again. "We have a little time yet. Do you desire a release?"

 She hadn't five minutes ago, but that was then. "Do you?" she asked in return. 

"Yes," he replied, his voice husky with desire. 

Grey eyes glanced to the right. "Take me, on the worktable. It will not take long. Then let me finish you with my mouth. No wardrobe or hair catastrophes, that way." 

His eyebrow raised, never having considered this. He lifted her skirts to begin unlacing her leggings, while she did the same for him. 

"Remove one boot, and you only need unlace one side of the leggings. Same side for both." He did not quite understand, but complied. With the boot off, she quickly slipped out of one side of the leggings, exposing herself for him. The expression on his face showed he clearly appreciated the elegance of this solution. 

"How...?" he began to ask. 

She silenced him, grinning. "Ask me later." Quickly she finished unlacing, freeing his straining manhood from the breeches. 

He helped her carefully lift the fabric of her gown out of the way, and she sat at the edge of the table. Testing her with his fingers, he found her already slick. He felt himself becoming almost painfully hard, at the discovery. "All this, just for me?" he asked his deepest voice. 

"If you must know, yes. I never used to be...like this. Yes, only for you." 

He entered her swiftly, moaning with the relief of being inside of her. A guttural noise came from her as well, as he filled her. "Lean over me, a little," she encouraged, "and take me." 

Thranduil needed no further invitation, and began thrusting into her deeply while an arm wrapped an arm around him, for support. Each push stimulated her yet more, eliciting soft moans. He perceived, how she was trying to angle herself against him and whispered, "Hold onto me, with both your arms, and relax your legs." The moment she complied, he lifted her off the table, supporting her against him with his hands. He was strong enough to move her as he wished. Pulling her into him, Thranduil now delivered exactly what she wanted. Her insides were set afire, as little cries increased in frequency from the swiftly rising passion deep within. With two more deep strokes, Nenni raggedly breathed his name as her release squeezed his length tightly. The length of her body turned rigid as strong muscles arched her legs and back away from him. There was no quick subsiding; rather, many hard spasms. Gasps of sheer pleasure were forced from his throat as he moved through them. At last she reached full completion, with eyes struggling to return to coherence. 

"Sitting or standing for you, my Lord?" she asked, kissing him. 

He regarded his wife with eyes full of lust. "I will take myself to the edge as we are now. I have no desire to leave my present location." 

Nenni laughed musically. "Then finish inside of me, if you will. As long as we find a towel before we separate, it is all the same. Please, have me." Unseen muscles squeezed his manhood powerfully, by way of invitation. Moaning, he claimed her in earnest. Joining to his mind and matching him at each stroke, she bore down like a vise and then released him, to do it all over again in perfect timing. He could not hold out much longer against this, though he tried. Finally, his dam burst and she felt his liquid silk. Caught unawares, she found herself within a thread's width of a second release. "Please," she begged him. He understood and thrust, giving her waves of extra pleasure along with it. The King held her in his arms, while they both recovered their senses. She giggled at the absurdity, as he walked both of them across the chambers to retrieve a towel. "What did you say you put in that wine?" They reassembled themselves with minimal effort, and with their presentability undamaged. He held out his arm to her. "Well, you certainly know how to start off an evening," she quipped. 

"Meleth, that was merely a token of what is to come. I did tell you, you would get no rest tonight. I meant it." Thranduil immensely enjoyed the fact that that statement tied her mind up in knots for a good five minutes. 

"The festival begins in the outdoors, where there is wine and greeting each other while the musicians play. I will introduce you to a great many. Relax, and let me help you. You may speak as much or as little as you wish. I will be touching you, in one form or another." 

She inhaled deeply and nodded. "Yes, i Aran nîn. (my King)"

He gazed at her, smiling. It was perhaps unfair that he was so easily able to avert his eyes down to look at her; the advantage of his extra height. Thranduil had long noticed that his wife's level of verbal formality was in direct proportion to her unease or anxiety. While their steps took them along the carven floor, he found himself having second thoughts about his plans for the evening. Adonnenniel trusted him, and determining to surprise her with no warning by crowning her tonight in front of hundreds; perhaps this was not wise. A look ahead at the passage told him they were not far from a rarely used chamber. He guided her through the door and closed it swiftly behind them, turning to face her. 

"Hîr vuin?" she asked, confused. 

He took her hands in his own. "Adonnenniel, I had long ago determined to do something tonight, that affects you greatly. I wished to make a surprise of it, but the more I think on your emotional needs the more I believe it may be poorly considered, to carry out my initial plans. This is something that you should be first told of privately, and not  in front of most of the Realm."

Nenni looked down. It was her automatic instinct to panic, but something was different tonight. He was going to great effort to make this social occasion bearable for her. Perhaps even fun. As his consort, she owed it to him to be able to behave like one. She forced herself to care more about his needs than her own skittishness, and looked evenly into his eyes. "Yes, Hîr vuin?"

"I will crown you as my Queen tonight. You gave me your acceptance some time ago. Do you still hold to this commitment?" 

Silence filled the room. Only a slight flaring of her pupils betrayed the unexpectedness of this announcement. But with regard to his question, there was little on which to reflect. She did not make promises of this nature without clear forethought, and never altered in mid-course. "I do."

His expression turned very serious. "You have a choice before you. You may rule as my equal, with authority even to my own and independent of me; or, you may rule under me, fully vested with my power but still ultimately subject to me. Choose carefully, as it cannot be undone later." 

A crooked smile revealed there was nothing to decide here, either. "I choose the second. With reference to what I told you last night; what I tore away to pledge myself to you cannot be restored. Not even for this. My heart and mind cannot accept another change." 

"Then it is settled." Damask robed arms reached to embrace her; he understood, and respected her reasons.

 "Thranduil," she said, not moving as he released her. "It was a great kindness that you showed me, to take me in here. I would have muddled though, for you, had you done what you originally intended. But you have just spared me a great deal of discomfort, and I am very appreciative that you showed me such consideration." 

"You are welcome, Adonnenniel." 

He offered his arm again, and they left...wherever it was that they were. _The Queen that doesn't know half the Palace_ , she thought ruefully. 

"I will teach you, meleth. Have faith." 

"I do, Thranduil. I always have, and always will." This changed everything, for her. This was no longer attending a celebration to endure meeting a multitude people that she would later curl up and try to forget. By the end of the evening, everyone there would be someone to whom she owed care, and concern for their welfare. Titles hardly mattered; taking up rule was a solemn obligation toward their needs, not anything about her.  Back home on her farm, a million things needed prioritizing and doing, and neglect meant ruin and loss. It was rare for her to fail; she had a strong talent for the oversight of complex systems. And somewhat like her farm, it would be the work of a lifetime to understand its layers of needs. This duty would shape her in ways she could not now know. What she had not had before was a skilled mentor, that would guide her in the endeavor. It was genuinely imposing, but not outside of her capabilities. If he believed her to be ready for this, then as much as she might like to argue the point, she was ready. Breathing deeply, she corrected her posture.

If Thranduil had any lingering doubts, looking in her mind at this time washed them away. She understood, and her heart was willing. He spoke, softly. "Meleth, have you ever wondered, why I claimed Kingship over this realm, when Galadriel and Elrond, great and powerful elves, do not take the trappings of royalty in their own lands?" 

Now that he mentioned it, she had no idea. In her mind, they were Kings and Queens; but he was right, they'd taken no such titles. "I confess, I had failed to notice the distinction, Hîr vuin. But I sense there is an answer to your own question."

He stopped, raising her eyes to meet his own. "It is because the elves here needed me. I did not need to be a King, but our Silvan people needed to have one. I can see that you have made your acceptance without illusions or desires for yourself. And I love you for it," he said, bending to kiss her lips chastely. 

As they walked on, she found that this train of thought brought more questions that answers. There were things she now wished to ask him, but this was not the time or place. She buried the the thought deep within her. But at some point she would have to discover; with his heart's pure intentions, how exactly had he gone so wrong?

They were near to their destination and she asked him,"Thranduil, are there figs in Arda? It is a fruit." 

He frowned. "If there are, meleth,  I am not aware of it." 

"Do they eat pudding here?" came next. 

He found this frankly bizarre line of questioning to be endearing. "Yes, there is pudding." 

"What kinds?" she pressed. 

He laughed openly. "Apple, honey, and plum are common. Meleth, what is this about?" 

"I was trying to see if I could change lyrics to another Christmas carol to something that would fit in with life here. Thank you for indulging me." She froze. "Wait. You can hear my songs, though I am singing words in my own languages. They will not understand. How is this supposed to work?" 

He leaned down, whispering into her ear. "Because I am with you." 

She shook her head and decided not to ask. "Very well, my Lord."

As they entered the training yard, Galion was present to provide his King with wine, which was gratefully accepted. Thranduil handed it first to Nenni. "One normal swallow, meleth. This will be much stronger than anything you have yet had." It was well that he warned her, because it was uncommonly delicious. She desperately wanted more, but was not so stupid as to disregard him. Very swiftly it affected her, but was not overwhelming. If anything, a pleasant buffer between her and reality had settled in. 

Soon, they were greeting a great many. She recognized some of the Lords, but had only ever met Lady Sadronniel. Many were very fair and lovely, wearing their finest clothing. Looking on, she admitted to herself that her King was not the only specimen of impressive physical beauty. Nenni caught more than a few looks of envy from the ellith over the jewels at her throat, as well. _Maybe I should start a jewelry sharing club_ , she mused with slight exasperation. Mostly, she was so grateful that she felt none of the usual strain building in her, over all this social interaction. _Three guesses why, and two don't count_. _Thank you, Hîr vuin._

 _You are welcome, Adonnenniel._ He offered her the wine again. _One more swallow._ She wanted so much more, but knew it would be social suicide.

The amount of newcomers arriving had dropped off quite a bit, and wine was flowing freely. And then something caught her eye; musicians were beginning to play at the opposite side of the yard. It took every bit of concentration to remain engaged with those still remaining to be greeted. Her eyes constantly drifted, trying to see what the instruments might be. Then they began playing, and Nenni was enchanted. The melodies were like nothing she had ever heard, and her mind and focus were all but lost. 

This was nothing new. Back on Earth, she could be immersed in something very important, only to hear music and be swept away. It was a magnet to her iron filings, irresistible. There were entire conversations other people had thought they'd had with her, as she watched their lips move and heard only the music. What would she have done in coming here, were she not a singer? Music was how she had survived the darkest times in life;  the absence of such beloved art arguably constituted her single biggest loss. 

There was something like a flute, and harp. Maybe a viol...nothing she could name for certain, but the principles seemed the same. Were they tuned to the same scales to which she was accustomed? They appeared to be different sounds, and her understanding of music theory had always been rubbish. Nenni sighed. It was not very queen-like, to be so distracted when there were other duties. With great effort, she wrenched her thoughts away and brought her awareness back. 

Her hand had never left its perch on the King's arm. The evening was chilly but the robe was warm, and so was he. Being outside in the night air of winter was nice, if the cold could be kept at bay. She sniffed, discreetly, tasting the air. A dry briskness lingered at this time of year, like that of the mountains of Earth. It was sharply cold, and clean. There were overtones of the forest trees beyond the walls, a musky organic scent all its own. And....food. Appealing odors from the Great Hall wafted around as well, but she wasn't really hungry. The recollection of her long, undisclosed history of drinking wine for dinner brought a smile. Wine felt like food, and technically was a food, and left her far less interested in eating on many an occasion. Nutrition had regrettably not been her strong suit. "That will not be permitted, meleth," he said, startling her. "You must also eat."

A pleasing smile painted on her face whilst her eyes took in the host of merry elves. _Thranduil, how can you stand listening to my mental chatter, when your own mind is so quiet? I would think it would drive you mad. Sometimes I cannot even stand it myself._

_In over six thousand years, meleth, one runs out of  internal things to think on. Can you not imagine how interesting it is for me, to have something new and unknown?_

_Well, if you put it that way,_ _Hîr vuin_ _, yes._

He handed her the wine. _Another._ "It is time to move to the Great Hall. One of the nobility will likely be seated on either side of us, as Legolas appears to be otherwise occupied. Food will be served. You are not required to eat much, as food will be available well into the night. But take something. I am certain you can manage conversation, with whomever is seated next to you?"

"Yes, Hîr vuin."

The evening wound on through delicious food and feasting, though Nenni sampled just enough to remain polite. To her eternal gratitude, one of the King's generals was seated next to her. She actually enjoyed the conversation, which concluded around the finer points of setting the trigger for the whip trap, and the mechanical resistance of lines and wraps. Apparently report of her success in the clearing had made the rounds among the fighters of the realm, gaining her respect. It surprised and pleased her, when she had only been glad the thing had worked at all.

 Thranduil provided her with a carefully watered goblet of wine that he mixed himself. She did not mind, having adopted the habit long ago to make very strong wines a little safer to drink. Feeling cheerful, she unthinkingly allowed her brilliant smile to flash freely. Her problem, at social occasions, was the usual lack of anyone sharing common interests with whom to speak. With this, she could enjoy herself as well as the next person. From time to time, she looked over at her husband as he conversed with those near him, resplendent under his living crown that shone with its own light. All had seen it, and remarked on its beauty. Laughter and good cheer filled the room, and she was in that happy place that would be described in the vernacular as 'slightly buzzed.'

Without warning, the King rose, and the Hall fell silent. "Greetings to you, on this Durufuin!" he said, merrily. Nenni smiled, thinking it a very nice gesture; she had never heard him address...everyone. Cheers rang out and goblets were raised; his greeting  echoed back  in a cascade of murmurs. His sonorous voice continued in a dignified manner: "Tomorrow, the daylight strengthens to overcome the snows of winter...but tonight is the Fire Night." The cheers escalated, and someone waved a small piece of cloth that had caught fire from a candle on the tabletop. Thranduil's eyebrow raised, but he did not call out the offender. "And tonight you shall have both a King and a Queen, for she has been restored to me, and I would have her take her place at my side." 

Nenni was not quite sure she had just heard that, but she certainly heard the hall erupt in cheering. Part of her started to freeze up. _Here? Now?_ But something else inside of her fought back. _You are a classically trained soprano. For crying in the mud, act like one._ Immediately, her demeanor shifted. With a level gaze and a modest smile, she looked to Thranduil as to an orchestra conductor, calmly awaiting a cue. He held out his hand and raised her up, leading her to the front of the dais on which they had been seated. Her body was turned to face the Realm; Tawarwaith and Sindar alike. The king stood behind her with hands lightly resting on her shoulders. Nenni stood tall and straight with a perfect poise, her arms arranged quietly at her side. Complete silence settled over the Great Hall, as the clear voice of the King rang out.

"Adonenniel Edlothiad, do you vow to govern this Realm at my side, according to the laws and customs of our people?"

With projection to match his own, she answered clearly: "I do."

"Do you vow to defend this realm against its enemies, to aid and care for all its subjects, and to use your power to dispense justice in your judgements?

"I do."

"Do you acknowledge that you refuse to rule as my equal, and freely choose to exercise your rule as Queen in subjection to me, my laws, and my decrees?"

"I do acknowledge this." 

He now turned her around to face him. _Kneel before me, Adonnenniel._

After gracefully adjusting her skirts, Nenni did as he commanded.

"With these vows you have promised to fulfill, I declare you Queen of Eryn Galen and its Woodland Realm." 

He removed the crown she had made for him, and placed it on her head, tilting it back a little so that it would not slide down. Conveniently, the edges of it were supported perfectly by the braids plaited around her head. The Hall erupted in cheering noises, which she genuinely did not expect. The whole affair was outside of her experience. He held out his hand to lift her up and began to turn her to face them, but she resisted with an odd look on her face. Thranduil saw that she just wished for a moment and released her hands. In full view of all her hand reached up and plucked a single flower from her crown, holding it in her raised hands. The room fell silent. The golden flowers multiplied into a chain and then wove into a circle, until a new crown of the shining golden flowers filled her hands. Murmurs of astonishment rose from behind her while she raised her arms, offering it to her King. He smiled and lowered his head, that she might place it on him. Cheers erupted from all assembled, louder than ever. Nenni curtsied to him deeply, before rising again. 

Now, she did not resist being turned to face them. Everyone present except the King bowed or curtsied to her. Smiling, she dipped her head to them. Her clear voice rang out: "Suil ned Dhurufuin hen!" Nodding her head once more, she retreated to stand next to Thranduil, whose hand she unabashedly sought with her own. He laced his fingers into hers, and her heart fluttered. He did not do this often, and she liked it very much. The King led her back to her seat, as the Hall descended into general revelry. It dawned on her, the Silvan elves were a bit...like sailors. Smiling, she thought, _Perfect_.

The King could not have been more pleased. His wife had needed no help from him at all, and had navigated the ceremony flawlessly even though he had not told her exactly what to expect. He poured more wine, and this time did not dilute it. 

A great deal of analysis went into whether or not this should make her nervous. In the end, she took a sip. And another sip. He nudged bread and cheeses in front of her, and fruit. Nenni obeyed the unspoken command, and ate as much as she felt she could. _This place needs sugar_. _I could singlehandedly take down a small cake right now._

Unseen by her as she reflected on the cheeses, sweets that were not a regular offering at mealtimes had begun to appear, and Thranduil wordlessly motioned for a small tray to end up near him. After he saw that she'd eaten of the slightly better choices, he nudged a honey cake onto her plate. Deeply amused, he watched as  her nostrils flared;  only he could have noticed this. Tentatively, she took a small piece on a fork and tried it. She was possibly being watched by others, and was trying her best to keep her table manners in order for Thranduil's sake. 

Rowdy celebration or not, Nenni had no wish to reflect poorly on him. After dividing the cake up swiftly into geometric sections, she devoured the slice in the most subtle manner possible. It reminded her of baklava, but with more floral overtones.  What really drew her in was the wine. Full-bodied and unusually sweet, the vintage reminded her of mead and merlot and some random syrup, all at the same time. So many fruit and floral notes trilled across her palate that she stopped trying to figure them out. _Why was it so strong_? She tried very hard to pace herself and to drink water, but it was clear when the time came to leave the table that 'slightly buzzed' had been exchanged for 'altogether buzzed'.   

 _I feel fabulous_ ; the only thing that would betray her was conversation on a complex topic. They walked back to the practice yards, her hand again on his arm. She stole a glance at her husband, so tall and regal. Perhaps it was not very masculine, but the sight of the flowers crowning his head was captivating to her eyes. Not paying attention as her thoughts meandered, Nenni once again found herself being ushered into the same disused chamber he'd taken her into earlier. _Perhaps he likes the room?_   "Hîr vuin?" Hers was a general state of fuzzy happiness.

"I wanted a moment of privacy, Adonnenniel. You did very well, and I am greatly pleased."

With softly spoken words, she craned her neck to ask, "You understand, it has not registered yet, for me? I will not fail you, but...it was so unexpected." 

"I do understand, and it does not change my feelings. Mostly, you are in here because I wanted so badly to kiss my new Queen for the first time."

"You are very sweet, Hîr vuin, but if you provoke me to desire right now, I will not thank you," she replied, her eyes sparkling. 

"I promise to behave myself." Closing the distance between them, he was true to his word. This kiss was different. Finally, he had someone with whom to share his burdens, fully. It felt like he was... relieved.

He gazed into her eyes and spoke one word: "Yes." 

Each of his flawless cheeks received a tender kiss. 

"Come" he said, leading her out of the room. Just as his hand reached for the doorknob, the door burst open, and in flew a couple that Nenni did not know. Quickly, Nenni braced herself against the collision of the elleth, catching her at the waist so she would not fall as her feet tripped on Nenni's; whereas the unfortunate ellon found his motion arrested by having run smack into the arms of his King. Both immediately withdrew and knelt, their faces ten shades of furiously blushing red. 

"I Bereth nîn (my Queen)", may I introduce you to Alanah and Nendir? They were about to rise from the floor and join the dancing, before they unfortunately tripped and fell through this doorway." 

The hapless couple bobbed amid murmurs of "Hîr vuin" and "Hiril vuin," and hastily retreated, before their good fortune at not being chastised further than the King's kind yet stern countenance could evaporate. Nenni kept her face neutral until they were far enough away not to hear her peals of laughter. 

"You do know that you are terrifying, Hîr vuin?" 

Thranduil smiled, tossing his head back in that parental and authoritarian manner he could so swiftly adopt.  "I hope so. I am keeping two young people who should be thinking more seriously about the permanence of the bonds of marriage from rushing through their courtship. You will find, all too soon, that you are now mother to thousands. I care for each of them, and their welfare. I think it is safe to say that the ardor of those two is cooled, for a time."

"I am confused. I thought that the...physical act of joining...defined marriage here, and that the joining happens at the time the hearts and minds of the couple are certain of their love and commitment. Am I wrong?" 

"You are correct. But it has happened on rare occasion that the bond was made without proper preparation or seriousness of mind, leading to a...rough beginning. While elves by nature do not have lust awaken until marriage, an excess of intemperate interaction can break down those restraints, and lead to bedding each other on impulse...and then it is too late to consider further; they are wed in the eyes of the Valar. We live closely, with each other. Harmony is the warp of our social fabric. It is the duty of each of us to guide others, when we feel that wisdom is lacking in the face of mounting desire."  

"I am grateful, for your instruction in these matters. I desperately need to understand these things, and quickly. I have vowed to uphold the customs of our people, while being far too ignorant of them."

"Your interest pleases me. I am sure you will then pay close attention to our dancing traditions, now."

"Unreservedly, Hîr vuin," she smirked.

He led her out, where she saw that most of the grounds were dotted with couples dancing enthusiastically. There was mercifully no central area of focus that she could discern. "What is the etiquette, Hîr vuin?" 

"I do not understand, meleth."

"On Earth, if couples danced, another male could ask to have a dance with any female, even a female already partnered. She could technically refuse the request, but it was considered somewhere between impolite and an insult for her to do so. A female might also invite any male to dance, though not usually if he was already partnered. I wish to understand if custom might divide us from each other, at any point." 

"Ah. There is something like that, but you are the new Queen. No one would dare try to take you from me tonight, and you will not be given the opportunity to be free of me. Technically, you could ask from among any of the ellyn to dance, but you would not wish to make me jealous," he said, smiling. 

A strange look came over her face. "I ask this in sincerity. Are you teasing me, when you speak of being jealous, or do you mean it?" 

He looked surprised at the question. "If I were to be fully honest, a little of both," he said, "why do you ask me this?" 

"I can answer in detail at another time if you wish. The short version is, I am highly motivated to never damage our relationship. Thank you for your candor."

He whisked her away, and there was fun like she could not ever recall having. Who knew, how long they danced? Thranduil had taught her every step over the course of the last weeks, and where she was shaky, he helped her in her mind. Their bodies fit perfectly, and moved seamlessly together. It was a little like sparring, but with the pleasantness of being held, and no chance of being sliced open. Some of the dances accompanied a song; singers had joined the musicians, and Nenni thought their voices enchanting. At one point, Thranduil saw Commander Tauriel among those dancing, and smiled that she had taken his advice to enjoy herself for awhile.

He continued to carefully calibrate his Queen's consumption of wine and water. At one point, when she developed a stitch in her side, they watched the musicians. There were reed woodwinds, and something like two sizes of viola da gamba. Some transverse flutes, too. In college Nenni had played with an early music group, and recognized all of these as being closest to this same era of instruments. Sans recorders, which was the one thing at which she had some skill. The harp was the best choice to accompany a solo voice,but the time and commitment needed to master a new instrument was steep. This world was not likely to invent the piano or harpsichord.  It did not matter. As long as she could enjoy listening to music sometimes, it would be enough.

Nenni turned to Thranduil, her ability to breathe freely restored. If he wanted more dancing, she was ready.  He took her hand, but instead she heard "Would you sing the song from this morning, the one about the Wassailing?"  

A familiar knot went into her stomach but she'd promised, and could not disappoint him tonight. There was no time to decide if she had over-imbibed, for the purpose of public singing.  "Of course, Hîr vuin." 

Ruefully she considered that were musicians behind her with whom she'd had no chance to make arrangements, but what difference did it make?  When the current dance ended, he gestured and leaned in quietly to speak to the lead musician. Nenni saw the ellon's head bow in assent. Turning to face the crowd, the King raised his hand for silence. "Would you like to hear a song from your new Queen? It is a merriment from her lands, something new!" Riotous applause broke out. Thranduil gestured to her, and she curtsied lightly to him. Already immersed into her singer's frame of mind,  her bodily preparations were complete. With a flashing smile, she sang the first stanza of the song. Then to her utter astonishment, as she paused just prior to beginning the second one, she heard the viols create an introductory strain. Panic twinged amidst her uncertainty, but she was too well-schooled to let her face betray her discomfiture. 

_Look at me, I will direct you when to begin again._

With an unreadable and calm Mona Lisa smile, she discreetly watched the King, waiting for his prompt. When she commenced again, the musicians behind her seamlessly accompanied the song. Even though this was a simple carol it was difficult to focus, incredulous that they had this kind of ability. Not to mention, the loveliness of their vocal harmonies threatened to pull her head completely into distraction. At the end of the third verse, there was thunderous applause in the grounds. Nenni kept her  composure, but inside of herself was having a hard time believing that they could like a silly carol this much... _it is not for me to judge_. Smiling, she dipped her head in acknowledgement.

Thranduil approached her with a beaming smile, to lead her away.   _You sang beautifully, meleth, and they appreciated it very much. So did I_. 

Nenni bowed her head to him as well.  There had been more than one circumstance tonight in which he had asked her to blindly "put herself out there," and had not allowed her to falter.  That one of those was musical was resonating as nothing else could have. The new Queen struggled to form words around the sense in her heart. Thranduil had unwittingly played on strings that ran through the core of her spirit, in doing this. To direct musicians was a form of being  like a king,  in her world of classical music. In performance, every singer and instrumentalist relied on the skill, mastery and direction of the conductor. To participate was to hand over all one's trust to that individual; failure in such a prestigious venue was both possible, and unthinkable. That he was not a musician himself, and yet could still command in this manner at any level...her already considerable regard for her husband had just soared.

He obliged her for many dances more. By then, even she had to admit that she was beginning to flag, in spite of her exhilaration. This was what he had watched for. She had given him a wonderful evening, and he did not want her exhausted for the rest of it. "Do you wish to stop at the Great Hall, meleth? There will still be some sweets to eat, if you would like them."

 _Oh, the decisions._ She chose restraint. "Thank you, I will decline, I have had enough. It would be a shame if I no longer fit into the fine clothes you have given me because of too many cakes." 

"Somehow I doubt that will be an issue. It is far harder to keep you fed than not. You are certain? We could take some back to our chambers." _Now_ he saw her hesitate. "You have made up my mind for me, meleth. We will stop by as we return. Besides, they were rather good."

He suggested that they go to the  Gates first as a long detour to the Great Hall, having some slight curiosity regarding what nonsense might have erupted outside, if any. As they made their way outside the massive portals, Nenni felt the chill of the real night air. Thranduil saw an impressive bonfire across the bridge spanning the Forest River, and decided to investigate. Snow drifts lined the edge of the wide stone path, and Nenni made a pretense of needing to adjust her leggings inside of her boot. Turned from him while keeping her mind carefully blank, she packed an ample snowball into the pocket of her robe and swiftly dried her hands on the soft fabric. A little dallying before taking his arm again kept him from being able to notice her cold skin through his tunic sleeve. 

They walked on toward the rowdy group of several ellyn, all of whom were obviously well into their cups. Even drunk, they should have seen who approached them, yet one ellon who was particularly inebriated only recognized a new target for snowballs. He scuttled over to the edge of the woods and packed up a large handful, his back to them until the last second. 

At the next moment, Nenni was hit hard, in the neck, by the icy missile, shrieking in surprise while the ellon laughed uproariously. Thranduil's anger flared and his body inclined forward, but Nenni pulled at his arm.   _Please,_ _Hîr vuin,_   _I very much want to attend to this matter myself, will you allow it?_

Taking a very deep breath, Thranduil kept his place and gave assent.

All other ellyn around the fire had seen what just happened with clarity, blanching with fear as their companion continued to roar with laughter. The Queen walked toward her attacker at a stately pace,  head held high. Before the unfortunate ellon realized his peril, all four limbs were ensnared by the ubiquitous ivy vines. Thranduil stared, following her at a slight distance in morbid fascination. He heard in his head, _would you please enable them to understand the words of my song?_ Her clear, shimmering voice filled the night air:

_In the bleak mid-winter,  frosty wind made moan.  Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;  snow had fallen, snow on snow..._

She finished her verse at the moment of arrival, crouching down over the baffled ellon whose eyes were wide with inebriated incomprehension. Expertly, Nenni swept up a very large mass of snow in her left hand, and with a firm tug upward at the waist of the young man's breeches, hurled the snow down into his clothing in one neat motion before releasing the fabric. As he inhaled sharply from the shock, she said sweetly but loudly enough for all to hear, "Let this be a lesson to you, young ellon, to remain sober enough to mind where you throw your _snow balls_." Great emphasis was placed on the last two words. Turning to his fellows, she dipped her head with great dignity in acknowledgement of them, and returned calmly to her husband amidst howls of laughter directed at their unfortunate friend. The vines were released, right about the time strange and pained noises began coming from behind her. 

As they departed, she looked up to see Thranduil regarding her, both his eyebrows raised. "Yes, Hîr vuin?" Nenni lightly scanning his thoughts as she snaked her hand around his arm. 

"I would not have thought you capable of such masterful discipline, Adonnenniel. You are usually so kind to others." 

"I accept provocation from you alone, my Lord. And sometimes, not even then," she added mischievously. "For all the others, only my keen sense of justice remains. Just out of curiosity, what were you going to do to him?" 

"I am uncertain," Thranduil said. "A slap on the face, tossing him headfirst into the snowdrift, and a night in the dungeon were all general possibilities. Regardless, I could not have matched the elegance of your punishment." Thranduil chuckled  at the memory, on and off, during their entire walk back. The humiliation the ellon would endure from his friends would be eternal. There was no need for further discipline.

At their chambers,  after they had procured a small stack of the delicious cakes, Nenni carefully fished out the snowball in her pocket and placed it on the balcony, to remain frozen. Thranduil's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What, may I ask, had you intended to do with that?" 

"I sincerely cannot say. It was possible I was contemplating mischief against you, but I also had in mind that if one of the young men were bold enough, I would throw this back at them. And then I forgot about it in my indignation." She shrugged with a merry laugh. "There it sits. I have already thrown one at you unfairly. I suppose it is your turn now." Lifting off the crown, she held it in her hands. "It held up well."  Then she felt how...different...it seemed.  Looking at him, she said, "This is not the same as what I made for you. I do not understand." 

He walked to her. "You made it for me, and then I made it for you. You may not have the ability to keep it from fading, meleth, but I do. It was too exquisite to let perish, and I could not help but see the many ways in which it would suit you perfectly for your own crown, Edlothiad."  

"It was very gracious of you, i Aran nîn. I will resize it," she commented, placing it on a shelf, "but not tonight. I am too tired to make the attempt. I do not know why, but it was a great strain to create that. In some ways it was harder than making most of the garden. I thank you, Thranduil, for all that you have bestowed on me. The beautiful jewelry, this day with you, the celebration, honoring me as you did...it was wonderful. You have been so, so generous. I hope you know how much I appreciate you, though I run out of words by which to say it."

His finely formed fingers stroked her face while, while soft lips pressed against the top of her head. He removed the comb from her hair, and pushed her tresses aside to unclasp the necklace, placing both on a shelf. Next he loosened her braids, combing through her hair. She dropped her head down. The sensation was soothing, pleasant. "Sit," he said, gesturing to a chair by the fire that he swiftly rekindled. She noticed his great skill at finding any coal with the barest ember and coaxing it back to life. _And he didn't even have a bellows._ Giggling to herself, she remembered cussing at her badly laid fires that would cause the room to fill with smoke. Especially in the beginning, when she couldn't remember which way the damper went. Or the year the firewood was green. _Why are there no wood stoves here_ , she idly wondered, watching the flames blaze to life. Her mind drifted to fires, like the bonfire she saw tonight. They'd lit bigger ones every year, and had burned fields too. In her mind she recalled the searing heat of  towering orange-red flames that raced over the dry grasses, and the tiny tornadoes they would create. So warm and inviting in a room, so terrifying and unstoppable when set free in the wrong place. 

He rose, following this latest internal dialogue of hers with interest, and poured wine. Offering it to her, he said "Drink". She broke out of her reverie to look at the goblet, surprised to realize he was still in earnest. Taking a swallow, she recognized this as the same vintage that had laid her low this morning. _Was it possible to get migraines here?_ The amount of wine consumed in the last twenty-four hours had surely broken a personal record by now. Staring back at the fire, she paused. 

"More." A glance up at him revealed an expression that spoke of the uselessness of protesting. 

"I am to drink all of it?" 

He considered. "One more large swallow. May I help you out of your gown?" he asked. 

 _That would feel nice_. "Thank you for the help." She walked off to find something soft and warm, returning in a loose tunic that covered cozy lettings and a robe in which to curl up. One leg  contorted underneath her while the other was held out toward the flames, all the better to roast her toes. Returning  from changing and sitting in his own chair, he caught at her foot and brought it into his lap, holding it against his bare abdomen. Shifting, Nenni tentatively extended her other foot until he reached out for that one too; the heat radiating off him was glorious. The wine announced its presence with a deep sigh. Even knowing that alcohol was a central nervous system depressant it fascinated her; slowing respiration was always the first thing she noticed. _Remember, breathe._ Thranduil began to rub her tired feet, causing moans. "It is impossible to withstand your charms," she murmured, her eyes closing.

"Good," she heard him say. He gazed at her in a way that was a bit...odd. "One more swallow of wine, meleth."

Her eyes flew back open. Sighing, she reached for the goblet. "May I ask why, Thranduil?" After last night, some suspicion on her part seemed warranted.

He stared at her with a level gaze. "Because, meleth, it will relax you. I intend to have you tonight, in every manner that it is possible to have you."

His meaning needed a moment to work out, as her brain fogged. "Ah," she said, finally understanding. "I see." Swirling the wine, she gauged the remaining volume. Another of her obscure talents was the ability to drink without swallowing. Deciding to tip far more than one swallow down her throat, she set the empty vessel down, meeting his gaze. "I would not refuse you, Thranduil." 

"That may be, but you have fear, meleth. Or is there another reason why you just drained the goblet?" 

Nenni smiled. "You don't miss much, do you? I think 'trepidation' is a more accurate word, but it amounts to the same thing. In my heart I know you will care for me, but yes, I cannot banish every misgiving. I hope you can forgive me that. It is my shortcoming, not yours." She pulled her feet from him to stand up, but he would not release her. Already, his wife had had enough to cause her to fall down, on accident.  "Please, I only want to get some water."  He moved her legs gently, and stood up to pour it for her. _I am actually very well coordinated when under the influence, when glass is not on the floor_ , she quipped. He ignored this.

"Thank you." She drank it down greedily while more wood was piled onto the fire. He spread an exceptionally large towel out on the bed, and shook out a folded blanket. The sight of his silken hair falling over his bare chest while he still wore his breeches was somehow even more alluring than when he was fully unclothed. Soon he came for her, scooping her out of the chair. Her fingers combed through his pale golden hair, still encircled by the crown of flowers, while her head reeled pleasantly. "Enjoy me, my Lord. I will do as you ask."

He set her down on the edge of the bed next to him, placing her hand on his groin as he traced her neck with kisses. Nothing tonight would be rushed, and he had a particularly extensive agenda. Nenni felt him swelling under her hand, as she slowly rubbed and teased at him through the  fabric of his breeches, stopping every now and then to tug at a lacing. He explored every tiny place on the back of her neck, throat and ears. The edges of her ears now were very sensitive to arousal, near where they were pointed. When he found them, he drew a soft moan from her. He tasted her skin, and bit gently where it pleased him to do so. His hands had in the meantime found her own laces, and had idly worked her leggings lose from her hips. Pulling her to him, he claimed her parted lips with his mouth as he gradually worked the clothing down her legs. Soon enough, she was laid bare to him. Pausing, he eased her arms from her garments, lifting her tunic over her head.  Coordinated tugs stripped off his breeches as he cast away his silken robe.

Effortlessly, he lifted her into the center of the huge towel, placing her on her stomach. A spreading warmth spilled down her back, as he poured out a generous amount of heated and scented oil over the length of her. His strong hands began to sweep and spread it over her body, eliciting moans. After so much exercise, his touch was ecstasy. He massaged up and down her spine, then to her buttocks. She felt more oil pour between them, and felt his fingers spreading the muscles of her cheeks, as well as his first gentle touches at her other entrance. A stab of nervousness surged through her, checked with a sigh. 

She would make a deal with herself.  _Give it your all, to anticipate good from this and not pain. When has he ever given you anything but pleasure?_ She concentrated to shift her thoughts in this way, telling herself to desire his touches in that place. When his hands travelled up and down she relaxed to feel that the touching was sensual, teasing. His fingers pressed gently, circling the strong muscle there, working to ease her, adding more oil. He understood that she was doing her best to open herself to him, and it was not long before she was moaning under the feeling of a single finger sliding in and out of her. 

The level of stimulation she gained from this surprised him, and he had a glimmer of how powerful this might be for her.  He could not afford to have this go badly, and would have to be extremely connected to her at all times. Carefully he massaged her entrance, slowly stretching her with a finger from each hand. He saw in her mind that this muscle could spasm without notice, and decided to simply remove any possibility of that occurring. He could feel powerful desire building in her even though he was not stimulating her other parts. In her memories he read that because of Edain  frailties, that her former lovers could not bring their male members from the rear to the front, so to speak, without risking her sexual health. There were no such issues here. Once she was groaning with need that could not be fulfilled from this position, he lifted her hips so that she kneeled facing away from him, giving her a pillow for her chest and head to rest on. The insides of her thighs were coated with the slickness that had run out of her. He pushed into her rose red folds,  slowly driving into her. She was so close to a release. Gently re-inserting his finger, he continued to massage her entrance here while he gently loved her. His wife was making as much noise now as he ever could want; the moans made him harden inside of her. He reached around and placed a hand over her center of pleasure;  she needed something to press or rub against, but direct stimulation right now would overwhelm her. His slow and steady attentions brought her  a very hard orgasm. He was stunned to feel part of her body cut off and go numb, as she cried out repeatedly with the waves of her climax. He supported her  as he moved her knees out from under her, gently slipping out of her once she had fully subsided.

His own need was burning now, even as he knew he must to stay out of her for a time while she recovered. Leaning over, he whispered to her in a voice thick with desire, "Adonnenniel, please, would you take me in your mouth?"  

She rose up immediately. _Position yourself as you wish, my King._ He knelt in front of her, on the bed. Seeing the accessibility, she sluiced some oil off of herself to coat her right hand, and rubbed it delicately onto his entrance. His length was swollen and pulsing in a way she had not yet seen. _Will I hurt you if I enter you, with my finger?_ she asked. 

"No, meleth, go ahead," he choked out. "Please," he groaned, desperate for relief.  Her finger wriggled into him immediately, while pulling him into her mouth. She caressed between his legs,  while drawing him into her mouth again and again, stroking lightly inside his body. The groan he gave when his release erupted was nothing short of cavernous.  They rested for a time, their legs entwined as they faced each other. His eyes closed. Nenni studied his face and twirled his hair, tracing the lines of his neck, under his jaw, his his strong chin and his lips. Edain men often fell asleep, after climax. It had always seemed endearing and insulting, all at the same time. While she didn't think Eldar did this, but there was much she did not understand. 

"I am not asleep, meleth." 

 _Oh?_ she smirked. _Perhaps neither are you awake, Hîr vuin._  His lids opened, granting what she really wanted; to enjoy all the colors of blue in his eyes. 

"For all that you adore my eyes, meleth, I have never told you how beautiful your own are. They remind me of the forest in a mist, because I can lose myself in them." She blinked, twice, thinking her eyes were, if anything, odd. 

_You have too long accustomed yourself to believing that you are ordinary or barely physically attractive, just as you do not wish to believe my words now. You are an exotic beauty in my eyes, like no other in Ennorath. To have held you in my arms tonight, dancing with an elleth I find surpassingly desirable, was a gift beyond compare._

Nenni leaned in to kiss him as her loins surged, wanting him again. _Flattery will get you everywhere_ , she smiled. _Your words are true, I do not see myself as you see me. But I also know you are not lying, and it does feel good to hear it. I am trying._

He leaned over to enjoy her mouth. Just as swiftly, he decided that doing this while leaning against a multitude of pillows was a far better option. They sat up, curled against each other, enjoying the dozens of subtle ways in which to experience each other with their lips. Eventually hands wandered further afield, and she was pulled down onto the towel once again, this time on her back. He coated the front of her with oil, massaging her shoulders, breasts, and the small of her back. He parted her legs, teasing and tasting her cleft. Her body was responding to him too swiftly so he stopped, only to begin moving her through a tremendous orchestration of positions. Each was designed to stimulate just a little, without really allowing her to build toward a climax. Four or five deep strokes in each position brought sighs of appreciation, just as pulling out of her in between brought grumbles of disappointment at his teasing. His fingers returned to her second entrance. With a sense of triumph on his part, this time she did not shrink back but pushed eagerly against him; the reward for his earlier skill. He continued to massage and stimulate here for a long time, feeling everything along with her. Finally he decided the time was right. He pulled her hips up to him, and added more oil. 

"I am going to enter you, Adonnenniel. I promise, there will be no pain." She was half insensible with desire, and he felt only positive thoughts from her. He oiled his own length, and positioned himself. "Push against me when you feel me, meleth," he whispered. He was very eager to feel this new sensation for the first time in his very long life, but his caution was stronger than his lust. He was in uncharted territory now, and soon felt the firm resistance. The strength of this encircling muscle was powerful, not like the construction of her womanly parts. He felt her bearing down against him, fascinated. Guarding her against any hurt, he slowly pushed and then in an instant, he was inside. He gasped at the strength of the compression at her entrance, and the complete smoothness further in. It was very different, offering him less and more stimulation all at the same time. She shoved herself back into him, hard, as he perceived that here, he pushed against both her childbed as well as other parts that stimulated her. At his deepest penetration, the sensations in her mind were a jumble that was hard for him to describe. It was as if he now had access to a center of nerves within her that was so powerful it could be dangerous. 

"Easy, meleth. I have you. Do not rush, let me care for you." He reached to place pillows under her hips, as this would allow her center of pleasure to press against something, and lowered her body down so that he could now rest his weight on her. Carefully, he slowly stroked into her again. This part of her body was not like her womanhood; she had little control over it; pulling out and re-entering completely would be ill-advised. But he found out soon, that if he withdrew mostly, the pleasure to him from the tightness was tremendous. He learned to alternate his motions; small thrusts that drove his own most sensitive places almost to madness, with longer thrusts into her that brought loud moans and whimpers from her. What now built was pleasure beyond what he had otherwise given her, and he decided that he would have to follow her into her own orgasm to protect her from what might happen. She had no way to predict what the climax would feel like; he could satisfy himself after.  Now, he would drive her to completion. He felt the surging inside of her at the end of every stroke, and she was going mad with the desire to push herself onto him. 

"No, meleth. Stay with me. I have hold of you." The passion within her astonished him. In a way, he felt envious, but they would experience this together. Thrusting harder, he supported himself on only one arm, reaching around under her to lace his fingers into her cleft. The moment he did so, her insides were taken in a chain reaction. Her orgasm exploded with an intensity he could not have imagined. She screamed with all her might into a pillow, from the pleasure of it. He caught and put a stop to a violent nausea that came out of nowhere, as wave after wave of bliss engulfed her. Her muscles were rigid from the climax; he tried to relax them more. Tears rolled down her cheeks from the strength of it. As she subsided, the enervation he'd noticed last time began to spread; he stopped that too. Her body began to tremble underneath him, and he soothed her. "I have you, Adonnenniel. I will not let you go, I am with you."

It took about two minutes, before he felt safe in releasing her different body systems. He now respected and understood her earlier trepidation. With sympathy, he realized how this had too much chance of being a nightmare, with the wrong partner. She broke into his thoughts. _I will be okay now, beloved. Please, satisfy yourself._

What he'd just experienced with her  left him throbbing with desire. Carefully he moved within her, searching her to see what it felt like. The hypersensitivity that was usually in her womanly parts was not really present, here. He felt certain now, he could have his own pleasure safely. He withdrew until the tip of him was at her tight, tight entrance, and made short thrusts here that swiftly sent him to the height of his lust. At last his climax came, and he buried his shaft inside her perfect smoothness, crying out in guttural ecstasy as his release flooded into her. He collapsed on her back, feeling her pleasure in his satisfaction, and her delight at the weight of him covering her body, while still connected in this way. He rested for a time, then very gently and slowly withdrew from her. He read in her thoughts that her musculature here would be...overly stretched...from the presence of his manhood, for hours or days. Once he withdrew he made certain that  her body was restored. His protections against pain were lifted slowly, while he checked that she was well. At the end, he carefully lifted her into his arms, propping himself up against the pillows to hold her in his lap. She straddled him, to lay curled against his chest. For some minutes, she held her arms around his neck, her thoughts a blank as she watched him, and played with his hair. He smiled at her.

To his disbelief, she  kissed him ardently, her desire flaring again. She stopped to look into his eyes, waiting to make sure that he would allow it. This was the last thing he'd expected, but he responded. Nenni rose up in his lap, offering her breast to his mouth. He took her in eagerly, and she reached around to find him ready. She guided him in, pushing down hard. He gasped as her hips rocked against him, taking complete control. She drove herself onto him again and again, her cheeks growing red and her breath coming in gasps from the effort. He braced her hips in his hands, to help her. He changed the angle, rendering her insensible with building lust, thrusting into her  from beneath. Their eyes locked together as they wordlessly tumbled over the edge, joined in every possible way, each sharing the rapture in the other's eyes. Fully spent, they rested this way for a very long time. Thranduil then lifted her in his arms, carrying her to the pool before his seed could leave her body. 

"Meleth," he whispered, "can you twist up your hair?  You will not wish it wet, at this late hour." He held her carefully as she removed her arms from him to do this; her instability and exhaustion were obvious.  "Hold onto it, as soon as I put you down, I will give you your hair sticks."

She had made several pairs of these useful items in the intervening weeks, and taught him to use them as well when he wished. He had to admit, it was an improvement over endlessly combing and drying long hair. Looking down, he saw she was nodding off in the water, threatening to keel over. Hurriedly he caught her, smiling. Taking a sponge and some soap, he washed the oil from her skin, and gently cleaned the rest of her body. He had wanted her to eat some cake, but she was too far gone toward sleep, he saw.  He dried her in a clean towel, removing the large one from the bed and casting it aside, and put her night-clothes back on her. The fire had burned down to embers, which he swiftly banked. Returning her to the bed, he pulled the covers over her. Pausing only to leave a note to Galion that they were not to be disturbed until noon barring emergency, he joined her. 

"I love you, with all my heart, meleth," he told her softly, kissing her. He caught the faintest smile twitch on her lips. The first light of dawn was coming into the eastern sky, and he pulled her down with him into deepest sleep, held in his arms. The memory of this day, he always would cherish.


	18. Headaches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rhiw 29, Imladris, December 22, Gregorian
> 
> edited, version 2.0

When consciousness returned the next day,  Nenni's first thoughts were of the whirl of the celebration, which had left a warm glow on her heart. But her heart wasn't what was trying to intrude into her awareness. She moved her head so very slightly, and felt the thing she'd dreaded, the moderate sense of a band around her head, that pulsed to the slightest movement. Inwardly, she groaned. Becoming an elf had not brought her a free pass from these kinds of headaches. Though she'd not had one here yet, she'd still realized that the sheer volume of wine she had consumed yesterday was a form of playing with fire. Trying to focus on her body, she assessed that she wasn't going to vomit. Yet. More than one kind of migraine had afflicted her since childhood, and understanding what type possessed her now was important. There had been times when she'd had maybe ten seconds between waking up and violently sicking up a stomachful of acid. Those were the kind dreaded the most, because no power on earth could cause the headache to go away until everything in her stomach, and then some, had been painfully wrung from her. Very slowly she raised herself up on her arms, and was rewarded by powerful throbs at the sides of her head. 

"Thranduil?" No voice answered. _Shit_. In the absence of his instant cures, she needed cold, better yet ice, for her head. Eyeing the balcony doors revealed that lightly falling snow graced the world outside. _Well, there is the cold_. If she grabbed a robe and blanket this might work. Steeling herself, she decided to hurry and get the worst over with in a hurry. Her robe was mercifully on the bench at the foot of their bed, and a blanket was nearby. In one fluid motion she rose up, pulled the robe around her, and dragged the blanket behind her on the way to the balcony, nudging the door closed behind her. Wrapping herself against the cold, she leaned up against the stone balustrade, placing her head against it. It took about half a minute, but the frozen stone was a balm of relief. As long as she kept her temple pressed against it and did not move a muscle, the pain was reduced to nothing more than the barest ache. Walking across the room had almost caused her head to explode. There had been high hopes that these would be left behind on Earth, but apparently elves were not immune to a night of abusing their bodies. 

Everyone she'd ever been with could drink like a fish, and never suffer any consequence, present partner not excepted. It was not fair. More sobering was her current realization that without her husband, she was  utterly vulnerable, medically. _How many times has he healed me, already?_ It was ridiculous. But she had nothing else. There was no bag of prescription pills here. Hell there wasn't even something simple like baking soda, which sometimes helped with the stomach acid. Perhaps she should ask him, what available remedies there were, in his absence. _But he is never absent, except apparently right now._ _No law says he had to be chained to my side._ She was warm for now, the blanket tucked up under her for insulation against the cold stone. Closing her eyes, she remained absolutely still, listening to the silence around her.  If she could drift off to sleep like this, sometimes the headache would go away on its own. 

Thranduil returned perhaps twenty minutes later, having already been out to assess whether the Realm was still intact after the Yule. He read the report that an early morning patrol had been ambushed, and that one of his warriors had been badly wounded. Thranduil having tended to the worst of his injuries, the ellon was expected to fully recover, but the incident festered on the pile of his growing concern about their ability to successfully repel these constant intrusions. He was angered, frustrated, and distressed. 

It was approaching noon, and they had time to ready themselves for the midday meal. Entering their chambers, he saw that his wife was arisen, but did not appear to be anywhere. Perhaps she was in the garden? He was just ready to walk in that direction when he heard a...noise...from the characteristically silent Beren. The dog looked intently, toward the balcony doors. Frowning, he walked over to look and realized that his wife was outside, curled up in the snow. _What in Eru's name...?_  He wrenched the door open and realized at once, she was unwell. But her mind was so still, he could not see why. 

"Adonnenniel, what is wrong?" he asked softly. 

She reached out a hand toward him, and he took it in his; it was very cold. "Migraine" she whispered, "very bad headache. Please help me." Instantly he blocked her pain, and she sighed with relief. "Oh _thank you_ , get me out of this icebox." Her clumsy attempts at rising up were eliminated as he lifted her and took her indoors, bringing her near the fire. "You certainly are a better solution than the cold," she spoke gratefully. He held her against him, until she felt warm enough to his touch.  

"What were you doing out there?" he asked, sharply. "You could have frozen."

His words stung. "I had to, Thranduil. Something very cold against my head is the only thing I had at my disposal, to control the pain. These are not little headaches. Have you never had one? If there was something else about which I do not know, I am very eager to learn," she said deferentially. 

"I have not," he said. I have enjoyed more or less perfect health, give or take...the dragon. It is very bad?" 

"Is the headache still there, or are you only controlling the pain?"

"It is still there, meleth, I was about to get you _miruvor_ , which should cure it."

"Then let it go, and look on. I can survive a minute or two. I would feel better, if I felt you understood."

She stood up, figuring that the point may as well be made to best effect. He released his hold on her, and the pounding surged through her skull once again. She bent down and stood up, just to really make the point, steadying herself on the chair after doing so.

"That is enough," he said, vanishing it away again. "I am sorry for criticizing you. I did not realize." 

"Thank you. It is difficult to explain, to those who have never experienced them." He brought her the dose of _miruvor_.

 "Drink all of it," he instructed, and she did not hesitate to comply. Immediately a sense of well being and restoration came over her. "Better?" he asked. 

"Yes, thank you, again. I feel like a baby,  Hîr vuin, I haven't the least idea how to help myself when something goes wrong with my body. Perhaps sometime you can teach me. I fear I cannot be every minute at your side, and my medicines from Earth are long gone."

"There is merit, in this suggestion. On Earth, did the remedies work?" 

"Mostly. I mean, there were many different ones with different outcomes; I could almost always manage some combination to help my symptoms. Other times, I had to...travel to a healer...for stronger remedies. Injections. Those would always work. But it was not like what you can do.  This being healed almost instantly, it still is strange to me. But most welcome," she hastened to add.

"Injections?" he asked, perplexed. She smiled. "The use of a hollow needle to pierce the skin and muscle, allowing delivery of strong medicines directly into the body tissues." 

He cringed, visibly. "It sounds barbaric."

"It was far less painful than the headache it was meant to cure. But I still prefer you. Perhaps I can remain in the pocket of your robe, for safekeeping," she teased. He chuckled at this ridiculous whimsy, affectionately ruffling her still uncombed hair. 

"If you do not object, I must make you presentable. It would be a shame to miss the midday meal, and trouble Galion further."

He procured a soft white woolen gown, with a pale gray brocade pattern in it, then swiftly combed her hair, placing her crown on her head. Nenni reached up to feel how it fit. She was not certain she had the time or energy to tackle adjusting it now. In fact, she was sure that she did not, lowering her hands. 

"It is only slightly too large, meleth," he said. 

She frowned. "How can that be, when it was sized for you? You are a much larger person." 

He ushered her to the mirror. "I cannot answer that, but look. It is lovely on you." This was the first time she had seen herself as Queen. A little smile curled the corners of her lips. _A little beauty, and a great deal of responsibility_. 

Thranduil looked down in sympathy. "I have often had a similar thought, Adonnenniel. But we have each other, to share those burdens." 

She turned to take a moment of comfort in his arms. "Did you ever waver, Thranduil? In all these long years, was there ever a time when you seriously contemplated casting it aside and running out into the wide world?" 

"The thought crossed my mind thousands of times, meleth," he smiled. But never in a way in which I felt seriously as though I was at risk of faltering from my vows. That being said, there was a terribly long stretch in which I did not fulfill them with the care and compassion I had promised. I was colder than the snow outdoors, to all around me. I cannot undo that; I can only make amends by being a better King than I was then."

She backed away from him, with a strange look in her eyes. " 'Needs must I like it well: I weep for joy  To stand upon my kingdom once again.'  I am so proud of you, Thranduil. You have overcome much, and remained faithful. I pray I can match your sense of duty, and your endurance."

"Come, my Queen. You can begin your long service to the realm by allowing us to arrive on time for the midday meal." His rebuke was pointed but his eyes were gentle. 

Lightly blushing, she dipped her head, and took his waiting arm.  "Díheno nin, Hîr vuin, I will pay better attention from now on."

Their arrival today was to a much more subdued meal. The customary courtesies took place, but with far less enthusiasm than the previous day. Nenni felt completely aligned with the emotional current of the Great Hall. _Back on Earth, I would have called this a perfect day to fuck off_ , she reflected idly. Suddenly she came to awareness, her cheeks reddening at the fact that the King had just heard that. And just as quickly, she realized that she could not afford to show emotion, here in the Hall.  She forced down her sense of chagrin. _I apologize, Hír vuin. I do not seem to have very good mental awareness today_ , she sent, glancing over to him.  He kept his face unreadable, as he ate. 

_I accept your apology. Is there a reason why, may I ask?_

She considered. _This was not uncommon for me, after these headaches, on Earth. Each one..they...did something to my head, and it took awhile to regain full command of myself.  It had been discovered, by the scientists on my world, that this condition caused damage to the brain. But_ _I cannot surmise that here, nor do not wish to make excuses for my behavior. I can only tell you that I feel...a little off._

They finished their meal in silence. Thranduil's thoughts had long drifted back to his injured subject in the Healing Halls. Nenni  ensured that the look on her face portrayed contentment and feeling pleased. However, it being that she actually felt neither, by the time they departed the Hall,  an ominous tension could be felt, returning to the base of her skull. She did not wish to admit this, even to herself. 

"What comes next, Hír vuin?" she asked, as pleasantly as possible. 

"I am still considering that," Thranduil replied. "The day after a feast is notorious for recovering sensibilities and disappearing supplies of miruvor, and I learned long ago that formal activities are best not bothered with, barring emergency." 

They returned to their chambers, to find Beren still in blissful slumber. The King examined some papers that had appeared at the sideboard; further information from the next round of returning patrols. As it seemed to be taking more than a minute, she asked politely, "Excuse me for interrupting your thoughts, but might I go to the garden for a short time?" 

"Of course, meleth," came the answer, without his looking up.  Silently, she left the room, keeping her thoughts still until she was well past the door. She genuinely did not mind the permissions she had given him to read her thoughts; it had saved her on more than one occasion. But at times, it felt wearying. That she felt obligated to apologize for even a stray thought...it was not always an easy circumstance. The sense of pressure at the back of her head was mounting, very slowly. As much as she wanted to deny what was happening, she knew the headache would return, however desperately she wished to pretend otherwise.

It seemed impossible, the amount of medical...messes...she had found herself in since arriving here. And this from a person who rarely saw a doctor, on Earth. _But that wasn't really true_ , she had to admit. There were few days when she hadn't used some...medicine, drug, call it whatever...to keep herself on an even keel back home. The reality was, she probably took pills 25 days of the month to stave off headaches. _Maybe instead of feeling like I am falling apart here, I should realize just how little, by comparison, I've needed relief from something like this. It really has been much better_. _And I am thankful for that._

Perhaps she should try and do something about the crown. Once at the bower, she removed it from her head, considering. By thickening it toward the inside, she could make it fit better, as asking the wood to shrink was not something she understood how to do, really. She felt glad that it was not as Thranduil's crown, which seemed to beg to sprout under her touch. Perhaps also a few small barbs in back, to anchor into her hair and hold it better in place? Who knows where she might be wearing this; on horseback or running or...any number of scenarios. _It is always easier to do than undo_ , she reminded herself. The crown had stayed in place even when she was hit with the snowball last night, so it already was a decent fit. Seating herself on the stone bench, she carefully controlled its thickening and again felt the familiar strain of working on this object. It baffled her, as she placed the crown back on her head to test it. _Just the slightest bit more,  and it will fit perfectly_. Taking it in her hands again, she repeated the same procedure, focusing again with all her might. Just at the moment she replaced it on her head, she felt something run out of her nose, and instinctively leaned over so that it might not get on her dress. 

When Thranduil chose this gown, a part of her wondered if she could make it through breakfast. All her life, she had been notorious for her inability to keep anything white.....white. Stains and spills that would occur at no other time were drawn to her like a magnet, if she wore that color. The purples, greens and rusts she preferred were part preference and part sanity-saver. Looking down, she was glad of her reflexes, as it was a nosebleed she had felt. _You have got to be kidding me. I don't get these. Ever. What the...heck?_ she thought, not wishing to repeat uttering obscenities. Her old training told her to clamp off her nose and lean forward, which she did...while walking over to where the stream flowed at the rocks. She wished to keep the blood off her gown, at all costs. Bending down, she carefully rinsed her hand and wiped her upper lip clean...and now her head started to throb in earnest. She quickly stood up. It took great self control, to not let all the things she wanted to think and say start a parade. _Good thing I'm not superstitious;_   _this is not how I wanted the first day on the job to be._

After several minutes of standing there as the band around her skull throbbed, she lifted her head to a normal position and tentatively released her nostrils. Nope. More blood flowed, causing a reflexive sniffling and swallowing. All she hoped for, was to keep the dress from being stained. That was all it took, and a sudden nausea rose up with increased pounding in her head. _This is so freaking unfair_. From long experience, she knew what was coming, and swiftly found a place to kneel down just over the water that was only on rocks, with no soil. In misery, with the familiar violent and protracted contraction of her abdomen, she vomited her breakfast into the water. As a reward, the pounding in her head doubled. After the second heave, she could feel the burn of acid in her throat. It was all she could do to keep her hair out of the mess, trying to roll up her sleeves between spasms. Tears were streaming out of her eyes at the pain in her head. The same, miserable, familiar pain in her head.

It did not even occur to her to call for Thranduil. This cruel, embarrassing ritual was one for which she'd only ever wanted solitude. It was disgusting, agonizing, and always felt like a general betrayal on the part of her body. One small mercy was that this was a swiftly flowing stream, and it carried the mess away immediately to some other place. She drank some of the ice cold water to try and soothe her burning throat. There were great odds it would come back up again, but it felt good for the moment. After the fifth or sixth spasm, when only teaspoons of clear froth were coming up, she knew she might have a few minutes before it started again.  The vomiting was always so forceful, it would bend her back from the strength of the aggrieved muscles. It felt like her body was determined to sick up all her insides, whether or not they would fit on the way out. It wasn't even worth getting excited about, it just _was_. This had gone on all her life.  

And, she thought unhappily as she wiped at her nose, she was doing everything possible to keep pressure on the blood vessels in her head, so naturally the nosebleed was not stopping. Well not _her_ technically, it would be fair to blame the headache and not herself. This time she simply plunged her nose and mouth into the cold water, not caring anymore. Anything to control the mess, to hell with the bleeding. As the next wave of nausea and retching hit, she idly wondered if this day could get any better, as her muscles contracted so hard that they left her struggling to breathe. The already bad taste in her mouth shifted to one that was worse, as the pressure on her liver wrung out her gall bladder. _Great. Bile. Well there is nowhere left to go but up, on this one_ , she thought, desperately taking a few sips of the cold water to try and clear the intensely bitter taste from her mouth. 

She pinched off her nose again, feeling the slight trickle go down the back of her throat as she turned to lay on her back on the rocks. It was the wrong thing to do, absolutely. _You have to get help_ , _now_ , she tried to reason with herself, _before what is going down your throat makes you sick up that too._ Finally she concentrated on calling out to him.  _Hír vuin I am ill, please, would you help me?_ Even this sent more pounding through her head. She forced herself onto her side, where at least she could sandwich her temples between a rock and her free hand and not have so much blood be draining to her already deeply unhappy stomach. This migraine was impressive, she had to admit, gaining entry into her personal Hall of Fame. The only one to compare with this in two decades was one that had happened on vacation in the mountains. She'd spent seven hours in the bathroom retching, starting at midnight, on that one. It was before the new medicines had been invented that had bailed her out often, but not always, in later years. This one was at least an eight out of ten, on her scale.

 _Adonnenniel where are you?_ she heard. 

Making one more supreme effort, she answered _Go to the stone bench in the bower, then go to the sound of water to the left. I am at the water._ More pounding. _Why did even the telepathy hurt_? Was there a physical component to it she could not detect?  Didn't matter, she was fresh out of neurologists to answer that one, here.  He crouched down next to her. "Please, stop the headache", she whispered to him. The relief was instant. _Nosebleed too_ , she sent, now that it could no longer hurt, starting to rise up. Immediately she felt him hold her down, so she stopped. There was little spare energy to resist anything right now. _But at least the pain is gone_ , she sighed.

"You may let go of pinching your nose," he said. Letting go slowly, she looked at her fingers. They were clean, but then again she'd made sure of that. She sniffled, and no longer felt the warm trickle anywhere. 

"Thank you, Hír vuin" she said, quietly. He lifted her carefully and took her to the bower, cradling her as he seated himself on the bench. A creeping sensation that she was an object of scrutiny came over her, as her thoughts drifted along; simply happy the pain was gone. She looked to meet his eyes, and he did not look pleased. 

"Thranduil, are you angry with me?" 

He paused before answering. "Adonnenniel, you have become adept at burying your thoughts so that they are not so...loud, to me. I will answer your question after you clearly recount for me, in your mind, everything that happened since you left me."

"Yes, Hír vuin. May I close my eyes to do so?" He could sense her complete cooperation, so he nodded his assent. Gratefully she closed her eyes; a wrung out cloth would feel less used up right now. She did as he asked, occasionally opening her eyes for a moment before closing them again. 

He saw that she did not try to avoid his gaze, and that his wife was weak from what had happened. When she showed him his own arrival, he heard aloud, "that was all, Hír vuin."

As he reflected on this, it did not please him that Adonnenniel had waited so long to ask for help, but he tried to see it from her point of view. She'd been here four months almost to the day, and was struck for the first time since being here by a lifelong condition; one she'd had to manage always on her own. It seemed wrong to add to her burdens by chastising her.

"Adonnenniel, on Earth, what caused these...how do you call them?"

"Migraine headaches. Migraines, for short," she said. For me it was only a few things. Pain in my body, my back and neck could give way to a migraine. Emotional upset or stress might sometimes be a factor. Sometimes, my monthly cycle. The other two things were, certain kinds of smoke, and wine. But even that was random. I drank wine quite a lot, and stood by many fires...but every now and again, for whatever reason...this. Our...healers still do not fully understand them. Only that they are complex, and happen deep within the brain."

Looking in on her, he could see that it had not even occurred to her to mention this tidbit to him before all of yesterday's imbibing had transpired. He rubbed his forehead with one hand, and sighed. 

"I am not angry, meleth, but I need to make something clear. No matter how you managed on Earth, no matter to what you have long been accustomed, you are always to call for me right away when you are unwell. You suffered much, for no reason. I could and would have helped you." His voice softened. "But I realize that you are struggling to even think clearly, which has me a little more concerned. I wish you to look at me, and try to blink as little as possible. Do not interrupt me. I am going to examine you very carefully, and it may take some time. Can you comply?"

"Yes, Hír vuin. I will try my best but..."

"Yes?"

"Please, might I hold your hand while you do this?"  A sense of feeling adrift had come over her, he saw; she wanted reassurance.

"I will place my hand on the side of your head, meleth, you may place your own hand on mine," he said kindly. "Only try to be still."

 She nodded, and looked into his eyes as he'd asked. Once his hand was in position, she laid her own on top of it, comforted by the warmth and the feel of his smooth skin. 

For the first ten minutes, she held up well, and then the struggle began. Nenni felt so tired, so sleepy. He'd asked her not to blink, if she could, but her body began to make that impossible. She was fighting to stifle yawns and force her eyes to stay on his as control of these things slipped away from her. Yet she said nothing, and kept trying. Thranduil finally spoke.

"You may close your eyes, Meleth, and sleep if you wish. I will carry on thus, though it will be a little slower. Thank you, for trying so hard." Lightly pressing his hand, she was only too happy to slip away.

As he continued to search, he was finding small things that were not as they should be. It was difficult to explain; he did not think of the body in her terms. He saw energy, and connections, and whether the feel of her rhaw was sound according to his experience. Her elven body should not be able to become ill in this manner, but perhaps she arrived with...structural problems, for lack of better words, on account of this body's origins? This was not the first problem that she should not have had, requiring his intervention. If nothing else, he was learning compassion for the Edain, and gaining a further sense of his own blessings. Even when damaged, his health was infinitely superior to what they experienced. Eventually all these lingering troubles would be banished; he would see to it. _Perhaps_ , he reflected, _some of her will to endure was tied up in what she'd had to manage._ Remembering something she'd  said once, he thought:  _You are definitely not a cupcake, meleth_. She had not had an easy time of it.

He placed her on the soft bower, leaving her to rest while he went for needed supplies, and returning with a very small and ornate bottle topped by a glass stopper. This was the pure oil of athelas, very painstaking to extract and collect. It was very rare to need this, but for injuries inside of the head, introducing it nasally was the best means by which to use its powerful virtue. Carefully, he tilted her head back to the correct angle and released a single drop into each nostril, holding her so that the oil would trickle deep into her sinuses. In a matter of seconds she woke, inhaling sharply. Firmly, he restrained her, keeping her still. 

"Do not struggle, meleth. I know it must feel strange. Do you wish me to send you to sleep?"

The sensation in her head was indescribable. It was just short of unpleasant. There was simply no comparison she could manage for this. She was uncertain what he'd done, but it did not matter. Realizing that it had been Thranduil, and not the onset of yet another improbable malady, she relaxed. _No, I am fine. I only did not understand what was happening. I will not attempt to move._

"I will keep holding you like this for some minutes more, meleth. It is too important that you remain still."

 _As you wish it. H_ er eyes closed again and her hand rested softly on top of his, and she was soon lost to sleep once more. When he determined the oil was fully absorbed, he sent his healing power to correct the damage he'd searched out, feeling the thrum of the magic around him. They were bathed in light as he did this, though there was no onlooker to see it. When he had finished, he bent his head to kiss her cheek, waking her.

The first one thing she noticed was how she did not feel. All traces of her morning had just been removed. 

"May I sit up?" He lifted her to this position, on his lap. She raised her hands to her head, smiling, hardly believing the difference before embracing him in thanks. "I am sorry, for causing you more trouble. I am uncertain why I made such poor choices. But I thank you, so much, for what you have done for me. I feel completely well. It is such a relief..." She trailed off.

"Do not be sorry, Adonnenniel. You had some kind of deeper problem, that required healing. Neither of us could have known." 

The comment brought peals of laughter. "Hîr vuin, if you only knew how many times I have been told in my life that I have a deeper problem. Who knew that all of them were right about me?" Her gray eyes were full of love for him. But as her amusement subsided, she grew sober again. "Will the headaches come back again, do you think?"

"I cannot be certain, though I believe not. I am learning that there is much about you that does not respond to healing as I would expect...but it does respond in the end." He reached, up to order a few stray hairs on her head. "Like with your troubled thoughts, I promise you I will care for each difficulty until we find the very last one. And, I can feel your hunger and your thirst. Come." He rose and returned to their chambers, with her in his arms. 

"Do you feel you can  take another meal in the Great Hall, Adonnenniel?"

"Yes, Thranduil, anything you wish." So relieved was she to be free of the headache and its aftermath, Nenni would happily agree to muck every stall in the stables, if that was what he preferred.

"Then we should leave presently." 

"Is my appearance suitable? I cannot fully see if my clothes are the worse for my experience."

"It is well, Adonnenniel." He offered her his arm, which she understood to mean that discussion was concluded and that he wished to depart immediately. Still recalling this morning's rebuke, she complied. There had been the barest hint of coldness, in his voice. Something had felt off to her, this entire day, but with her mental function having been so dampened, there was no way she could take that as an objective observation. Chagrined, she felt that whether or not she had any blame in the matter, it was a weakness on her part that two interventions had been needed from him before noon. This had not been at all how she envisioned her first day as Queen of the Realm. _You can only go forward_ , she reminded herself.

Whatever lingering sense of shame she might feel was not enough to  ruin her sense of gratitude for the gift of being delivered out of the illness. Too many memories of spending three, four days in that condition, only to have to ultimately seek out the injections that would leave her senseless for yet another full day were all too vivid. Months of her life had been lost, to these headaches. Her indebtedness to him was bottomless, in her eyes. She glanced up at him, as they walked. That he had never known the kinds of illnesses that had burdened her brought gladness. It might have made him different; and in the world, there needed to be those who were stronger. Else, who would be there to help those who were not? While she held such...visions of the future...lightly, she had a strong sense that she would not always be so prone to troubles. _Eventually, I will be forged into something different, and then I too can help instead of so frequently being the one in need.  Or so I hope._

At the midday meal, she made a point to eat as many greens as she could, with only a little bread and cheese to make her feel like she'd eaten something she liked. After the morning, consuming plenty of nutrients could not be the worst idea. While she had not directly gotten sick on the wine, it would be some days before she could even look at it. The memory of the headache and the fear of having another would, for right or wrong,  cause her to shun it. Several goblets of water went down during the meal; she managed to corral the pitcher to her side of the table so that her constant refills might draw less attention. They again ate without speaking. She hoped she had not offended him, today. He was not usually so quiet, but, everyone had a right to not interact. When she had eaten what she could, she amused herself with watching the activity in the Hall below. Those present seemed a little more lively than at the earlier meal. Absentmindedly, Nenni lifted a hand and placed it on his thigh.

"Yes?" he said, breaking her reverie. 

"Hîr vuin?" she asked, confused.

"You wanted something?" he asked, his face unreadable to her. 

"No, i Aran nîn." She made a pretense of picking up her napkin to dab her lips, thinking that perhaps she had erred by touching him. Her intuition was gaining in insistence that something was not right, but with nothing external to go on, she was lost. There was only waiting, and watching. It was still difficult for her to feel comfortable with just bombing into his thoughts; it had not become a matter of routine for her. With her hands in her own lap, she continued to look at those below, with the schooled Mona Lisa smile painted on her face. She would give much, right now, to be running down the forest road...a thought she quickly buried deeply. 

He rose eventually, pulling her chair back for her. She took his proffered arm, and they left to return to their chambers. He surprised her by saying, "I will be occupied for two hours now, Adonnenniel. If there is something you wish to do in that time, you may." 

"Hîr vuin", she said, bowing her head in reply. Keeping her thoughts blank, she went into her chambers. From the doorway, she saw Beren looking at her, and beckoned him. He had long known a "come here" hand signal. He lumbered over to her, appearing to escape the attention of the King. She quietly mostly closed the door to her chamber. Swiftly, her gown and crown were stripped off in favor of warm work clothes. Quietly donning her armor and putting Beren's on,  her daggers were shoved into her boots, sword harness picked up, and into the garden they both went.

Nenni could not erase the sense that she had offended him somehow, and felt an overwhelming need to run...or run from here; which, was uncertain. They left out the southern passage, through the storerooms and past the stables. Unless she was badly mistaken, he'd given her permission to be outside, in sight of the Palace, without escort besides Beren, so the Palace perimeter would be her running track. Realizing how many strange occurrences had gone on with regard to her, she informed the stationed guard of her intention to exercise in this manner, as an extra precaution. 

They ran, devouring the miles. It seemed like she had not held her swords in days, so it was not long before a clearing gave her the opportunity to exercise in that manner as well.  Perhaps she had just needed to be in motion, for it was very soon that the suffocating emotions felt inside the Halls gave way to joy and vitality. The presence of the nearby trees and their lower branches offered the opportunity to try some new ideas with vaulting with the swords. While technically she knew she was slightly abusing the fine steel edges by her antics, she could not resist the discovery that the weapons could act as extensions of her arms, allowing her to cartwheel and otherwise propel herself in assorted maneuvers. Even ballet began to enter the picture, for no particular reason, until she found the foot positions that allowed her to pirouette in tight circles. 

Eventually she felt a great enough sense of contentment, and continued her run. Not many minutes along  the sky unaccountably darkened, causing her to pause. The smell in the air had changed, and so had the pressure. _Nuts, a storm might be arriving._ Only once had she taken this track with Thranduil, at night, and there was no good understanding on her part of  the distances, or whether the quickest way back into the Halls lay ahead of her or behind. Her guess was the latter; she did not think she was more than thirty minutes out from her point of origin. That made returning the safer option. 

Telling Beren they would go back, and to stay close, they turned around. Within five steps, snowflakes began to fall.  About ten minutes in, it was becoming quite heavy, making the track difficult to see. She still had a view of the Palace walls, for now. "We should run as fast as I can, Beren. I fear I will lose the sight of the walls soon. You must guide me on the track, if that happens." Pouring on all her speed, she sprinted with the hound for as long as possible, before a stitch in her side caused her to pull up for a minute. With her armor on, no relief was possible. Stitch or not, it would be better to keep moving; the weather was worsening. _How strange it is here_ , she thought, _with snow_. Visiting it was not the same as living in it, and she'd had no reason to believe the weather would turn so quickly. _Did anyone, here?_  Another question to ask, to learn if there were clues of which she could have been aware. 

Some time later down the track, visibility of the Palace walls was lost to swirling, blinding snow; more or less a whiteout. "Beren, it is up to you now. You must run so I can touch you; soon I will not see anything. Take us home, please. " He gave a bay of assent. She kept her hand on his back, as he ran in his characteristic lope, his nose sweeping the ground. That nose was a far better guide than her eyes. Nenni recalled too, that the perception of time would distort now. There was something about moving without visual reference; for whatever reason, five minutes might seem like half an hour. _Keep calm, keep moving,_ she told herself. It did seem to be awhile, but finally they broke into view of  the entrance. It was growing much colder; not that she was cold. Quite the contrary, she was toasty warm from exercise, and exhilarated. 

Once again she stopped to speak with the guard, to ensure that her return had been noted. "Hiril vuin, the King has gone out to look for you, with a patrol."

Her heart sank. _Think, Nenni._ She would stay here; it would be foolishness to go out after him, in these conditions and with her comparatively poor outdoor skills. Perhaps he could hear her mind? _Thranduil, can you hear me? I am at the Palace, safe. Please answer me?_ They had never explored at just what distance their link severed. There was no answer.

Once again, she bent down to Beren. "Thank you for bringing me home, Beren. I must ask you, can you go out again to find Thranduil, to tell him I am safe? I do not want you to risk yourself; he knows the lands well and is not alone." Immediately Beren bayed and ran off. _I guess that answers that question._ She felt very badly, that the King had gone after her. _How did he even know she'd gone?_ Rolling her eyes, she thought privately, _he doesn't run this Kindergarten by being an idiot._ _He knows how to find out anything he wishes_. Nenni informed the guard that she was returning to their chambers, and then did just that.  

It was her honest belief that she could not have done anything differently, or better. Her conscience was clear; she had met the conditions placed on her, kept her head once the weather changed, and had a successful plan for a safe return. Hearing the distant chime confirmed that she had even met the two hour window he'd accorded her. It did not mean he still would not be displeased about...whatever, but she had done her best. If he was going to blame her for the snowstorm...

 _Stop anticipating that he will be angry,_ the Little Voice said. _You are trying to create a defense against what might happen. He has a right to fear for your safety; be glad that it matters to him._ She sighed. 

Removing her armor and weapons and placing them where they belonged, her clothes followed suit because it was now time to bathe. It might relax what was left of the stitch in her side. Quickly cleaning herself, she did not linger in the pool, but dressed again in a patterned velvet gown of greens and black, to wait for him. She even remembered to go find the salve for soreness, to rub some in the area of her ribs, though whether it was indicated for that was anybody's guess. As it helped, she figured it had been a reasonable decision. This once, she would comb her own hair, adding a simple twist to one side, and her circlet. There was a fire already lit; she added a few pieces of wood, and poured water to drink. Exiting to the balcony revealed that it was very cold, and visibility could not be determined. Did this balcony even overlook the track she'd run? It seemed like it should, since she had moved east and then north outside the walls, but again, she was inexperienced here. At least it was not yet night. 

Donning a cloak, she returned to the Palace entrance to ask if there had been news of the King or the patrol. "No, my Queen." With a nod she turned away to hide the complete bafflement felt inside. The guards were told of the direction she took, and he should have known she would remain in sight of the walls, as agreed. They should have actually encountered her as she returned....unless they had passed near to each other in the whiteout, on slightly different tracks. At all times, they had maintained silence.

 _Beren should have found them by now, he is very fast._ As badly as she wanted to do something, she returned home. _Only idiots add to a situation like this, by creating more people needing to be rescued._ Even had they met with an attack, he was more qualified to fight by far. _I can only wait._ Tossing the cloak over the back of her chair, she opened the book she had been reading the day the Orc attacked her, and did her best to occupy her mind, with varying degrees of success. There were words for plants in here that she was not certain the King knew; she certainly did not, and she was trying to sound aloud how they might be pronounced.  He had not transferred to her a concise knowledge of rules of pronunciation or grammar to her, like the ones she kept in her own head. "Oiolairë.  OOeeoolAAiray? Is this even Sindarin?" she muttered.

"It is not. It is Quenya," she heard him say. Startled badly, she almost dropped the book, barely catching it before putting it down immediately. She flew out of the chair, embracing him as best she could over his armor, "I am very glad for your return, Thranduil. It is becoming very cold outside." Beren could be heard drinking copious amounts of water in the background.

He placed his hands on her shoulders, and after allowing a few moments of holding him, he pushed her gently back. "Oddly enough, I thought the same thing when I went looking for you," he said, coldness creeping into his voice. Looking in his eyes, Nenni saw pronounced displeasure there. Of one thing she was certain: she felt weary of a sense of being blamed for the events of today, when it had not been within her reach to do any differently.

"Hîr vuin, if I have offended you, please speak plainly. I obeyed the rules you gave to me. If I am in error, I would humbly ask you to tell me my mistake." She did not flinch from his gaze.

"We can begin with you sneaking off through the passages that ensured I would not see you depart the chambers."

"With respect, your exact words to me were: 'If there is something you wish to do in that time, you may.' I was unaware that I must inform you of my intentions. It is true that I wished privacy and some time alone, but I do not understand what command I violated by doing this."

He did not respond to her words. "You were told to be accompanied, if you ran in the woods." 

"Again, with sincere respect, you instructed me that I might run in sight of the Palace walls with only Beren, if I was armed and wore armor. I did as you ordered. I informed the guard at the entrance of my intention, as well as the route I planned to use, and Beren never left my side."

"You ran in a snowstorm. You could have become lost."

Lowering her head long enough to take another deep breath, and feeling very worn down, she replied evenly, meeting his eyes. "If I may explain, there was no snow when I departed. The moment I noticed the weather change, I began my return. I was careful to keep the path, and when I could no longer make it out clearly, my hand remained on Beren, who could easily perceive the way home. We ran as swiftly as safety would allow, and I ensured that the guards were aware of my return. If there are ways to understand that a storm is coming of which I am ignorant, I would ask you to please teach them to me."  She fell silent, stood as a statue, and did not lower her gaze.

"Is there anything else you wish to say?"

She summoned her waning stockpile of courage, and asked in a very soft but clear voice. "Would I be speaking to my King or to my husband?"

His eyebrows raised at this. "What would you say to your King?" he asked. 

"Nothing, i Aran nîn."

"And to your husband?" 

Breathing deeply again, she used all her focus on speaking clearly. Her voice was close to shaking, with the difficulty of saying this. "That I have felt from you, for much of this day, something between aloofness and barely concealed displeasure, though whether it was meant to be directed at me, I cannot say. And that it is becoming more painful for me, by the minute." She paused, and continued in a whisper, "I cannot long remain, outside of your grace."

Using all her focus, she remained still, and tried to control her breathing so as to calm herself. Her heart sank when he did not respond, and there were no more words to say to him. Bowing her head, she fell away from the present and into a place of self-protection. Her eyes slightly unfocused; widening somewhat, and blinking only rarely. Her body could not leave without his consent, but the rest of her could. Turning inside herself, her waking vision filled with lofty columns of the Gloucester Cathedral as the first simple notes of the Fantasia on a Theme of Thomas Tallis filled the grand space. There was no part of the next seventeen minutes that she had not etched into her memory. As the two orchestras wove an exquisite musical fabric between the moonlit columns in her memory, the long minutes wore on. 

[Take a journey with Nenni. This is a beautiful and ethereal performance, with stunning visuals: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ihx5LCF1yJY]

Tears spilled out of her unseeing eyes in the presence of so much fragile beauty, washing her unhappiness away. No longer aware, Nenni did not feel him softly wrap his arms around her.  After the final note died away her mind returned, only to realize he held her now. She returned his embrace, resting her head against his breastplate, remaining silent. Waiting.

Still, he offered no words.  At long last the thought came to her:   _Perhaps he cannot speak._ Her completely still mind slipped inside of his, and found only turmoil. Searching carefully, unobtrusively,  she found the cause of his agitation and likely his behavior. It was easy to see why the hours had slipped by without him telling her...though he could and should have, after the midday meal. Her hurt feelings became of much less importance, now that she understood.

Carefully, she chose her words. "Will you accompany me, to visit the injured ellon?"

Slowly, he released her, stepping back. His fingers under her chin raised her eyes to his. He found in them a rather determined stare.

"Yes."

"I wish to gather some flowers to bring. May I be excused for a few minutes?"

"I will accompany you." 

She smiled. "May I first remove your armor for you, Hîr vuin?" He held his arms in a manner to allow her access to the buckles, and swiftly helped him out of the pieces.

Turning to him again, she raised her arms, asking wordlessly to be picked up and carried. Once he had lifted her up, her hands gently took his head, pulling it down so that she might kiss his forehead. Into it she poured all of her empathy and compassion, and then she slowly released him, looking away. As he carried her through the passage, a snatch of song from long ago came to her unbidden as she held onto him.

_When it almost seemed too much, I see your face and sense the grace and feel the magic in your touch._

He placed her down, so she might retrieve her shears. Eight of her most fragrant roses, and some of the flowers of Vána, were what she sought out. Arranging them as it pleased her, she used tendrils of ivy to bind them together and add greenery. One extra rose she pressed into Thranduil's hand. This time, she met his eyes, and saw hunger there. Reaching, she stroked his cheek with her thumb, then softly traced over his mouth. Her eyes and parted lips were an open invitation, and he lifted her up to meet his long kiss. She felt no physical desire, only a wish that he understand her willingness to support him through anything that burdened his heart, if he would allow it. Briefly, she leaned her forehead against his own, then kissed him on his cheek. 

"I am ready, Hîr vuin," she said in a whisper.

Thranduil carried her to the Healer's Halls, not caring who saw. Her own sense of caring about decorum was gone, as well. After the way the day had felt to her, the desire to be as close to him as he would allow consumed her. At the threshold he lowered her, offering his hand. Gratefully, she laced her fingers into his. When she first caught sight of the injured ellon, her heart moved with pity. _How is he called, Hîr vuin?_

_Rhistel._

_And does he have family here?_

_No. His father was lost in the last battle, and his mother sailed into the West._

Nenni released his hand, and walked toward the bedside. The young ellon was awake, and as she regarded him from a distance, agitation and discomfort were what she perceived. He looked away from her, toward the opposite side of the Hall, and did not notice her silent approach. Thranduil lingered back, surprised somewhat that she had so quickly moved off away from him. Without introduction, Nenni seated herself gracefully at the bedside. Rhistel noticed her now, and as he turned his head, his eyes widened. Gracefully, Nenni let her flowers drop onto the train of her gown. Her kind eyes bored into the ellon's. His hands rested below his chest, and she placed her own hand over one of his, her fingers closing around it it with firmness and reassurance. A flicker of the wounds to his psyche passed over his eyes at this, and she _saw_. He squeezed his eyes shut, and she felt the fingers of his other hand reach, slowly and tentatively, to take her own hand in his. She increased the firmness of her grasp on him and with her free hand, began to stroke his hair, waiting.

_Thranduil, please go to him, at his other side, and sit with him, as I am._

As her husband did so, she saw the wetness form between Rhistel's closed eyes. "Rhistel, come here" she whispered. The hand that had stroked his head, now slipped under his neck. She felt the cry break from him as he wrapped his arms around her, sobbing. She encircled him, lowering her body to fully return his embrace. 

_Lay your hands on him, Hîr vuin. Soothe him. We are the only family he has, here._

For many minutes they held him, while the Healers looked on from a distance in astonishment. When at last his pain subsided, he relaxed in her arms, and she held him a moment longer before slowly releasing him.

 _Can something be given him, to help him sleep?_ she asked.

Rhistel looked up at both of them, his eyes wide in disbelief, as the Queen gently stroked his hair. The King raised him up to help him drink a cordial, then carefully lowered him back down, allowing his hand to linger on the ellon's arm. 

"You will heal swiftly, Rhistel," she said softly. "We are grateful to you, for all you have done, and we will come again." Her flowers were placed in his arms, that the sight and scent of them might comfort him. Softly, she sang  Brahm's Lullaby, with slight alterations. 'God's will' would have nothing to do with the certainty he would wake tomorrow, as she saw it.

_Guten Abend, gute Nacht, mit Rosen bedacht, mit Blumen besteckt, schlupf unter die Deck: Morgen früh, Morgen früh, wirst du wieder geweckt, Morgen früh, Morgen früh, wirst du wieder geweckt._

She did not finish, before he had fallen into untroubled sleep. Softly kissing his forehead, Nenni rose and went to her husband, taking his arm as they left. He had never seen anything like this from her, and the force of her intention had astonished him. She had not come here to make an appearance, she had come here to pull his spirit back from darkness. He understood, soberly, that while she could not heal the body as he could, she had a different and perhaps equally important gift of healing. Perceiving what he could not, she had known exactly what to do, by means he could not discern. 

He looked down at her, and noticed that her head bowed forward as she walked. It had tired her, to do this. Leaning perhaps a little more than usual on his arm, she breathed deeply and straightened her posture. It did not take long to realize that they were not returning directly to their chambers, but were approaching Thranduil's Hall and his throne.  Except for the ever present few guards, the space was deserted. She liked it here, looking out through the vastness of the caverns, especially when no one was about. It was a place a person could be alone with their thoughts. 

 _I have often thought so, as well_ she heard. Looking up at him, she smiled as best as her fatigue would allow. 

 _Does it meet with your approval?_ he asked. 

 _Of course, Hîr vuin, I have always felt your caverns possess extraordinary beauty_ she sent, while continuing to gaze into the vast space. Nenni rarely looked up. Tall things existed in another world, to her, and she took it for granted that the heights would manage themselves. 

Thranduil rolled his eyes.   _Adonnenniel._  

Gently he took her head, tilting it to look in the direction he wished her to observe.  He now felt her sharply inhale. His throne had been altered. Widened. Adjoined, would be the best word. A similar seat was now to the right of his own, but instead of carven birch trees were flowing vines of ivy and a crest of the flowers of Vána. The part that fascinated her the most, was that they'd been able to center all of this under the elk's massive antlers, which she would have seen as an overwhelming obstacle. _Maybe little green fairies did this stuff_ , she thought. 

Then it penetrated. _This was for her. Oh, my._ Seeing this brought reality crashing in as nothing else yet had. The King's hands rested on her shoulders. For a minute she stood, staring, until recalling that he had asked her a question. The truth was, a folding chair would have met with her approval, and this exceeded that by several orders of magnitude. The use of ivy and the flowers that seemed to rapidly be cementing themselves as her personal symbols, her seat next to his; yet with his emblem of the spreading antlers overarching both seats to indicate his continued supremacy...it could not have been better conceived. Perhaps the simple answer was best.

_Yes, Hîr vuin, it does._

Thranduil had gained no small amount of amusement from following her mind, as she processed this. As time went on, he would miss having so many new things by which to discombobulate her, he reflected.

 _You need not concern yourself. I am certain you will always manage to devise new means by which to derive amusement from me,_ he heard with hints of acerbity.

 _Come_ , he sent, ignoring her. _Follow carefully. It is regrettably easy to stumble, at first._ He ascended to take his seat. Lingering behind a moment, she took stock of the situation. The stairs were somewhat narrow, and she did not wish to know the drop off on either side. There were no visible handholds. Her gown had a small train, too. Taking no chances, she gathered all the extra fabric of her skirts to well above her slippers, and began following him. _Do not look down_ , she told herself. Her fear of falling from heights was a complicated one, and it included pathways with dropoffs. She swallowed. It was unthinkable as well as impractical for her to do the one thing that would allay her fear, which was walk also with the use of her hands. _Look only at where you are going_ , she tried to coach herself. Taking a deep breath, her foot took the first step. _You can do this, keep taking steps._

As he heard her, Thranduil had not realized that this was another difficulty. But then he recalled how she'd clung to him, the time he carried her down from the tree in the forest. _Adonnenniel, stop_ he commanded, returning to her. Her gaze was level and she was trying to hide her emotions, but he had already seen. _Show me. Show me this fear._

There was no evading him; Nenni relented, dropping her shoulders in acquiescence. He saw the images in her mind of learning to climb the masts of the ship, her daily terror at the thought of losing her grip and falling...until she had mastered a technique that let her feel secure. Traveling along paths with sheer drops to either or both sides, how she hated the feeling of falling through the air...yet flew in devices that did just that. This was partly a fear, but more a lack of the confidence that came with familiarity, he saw. Moving around her, as she still stood on the first step, he leaned in to kiss her. He felt her relax into his touch, and used the contact to impart his own outlook. Breaking away from her slowly, he looked in her eyes. _Now mind your skirts, and take your seat._ _I will be behind you, you cannot fall._

She believed him, and this time ascended with no difficulty at all. _Thank you_ , he heard, as he seated himself for a second time. Testing the throne against her body, she found that it was a perfect fit for her legs. A curl of antler to one side of her provided a second place against which she could rest her back, allowing her to sit an an angle. There was even an antler point, or something carved to look like one, that protruded near her leg, allowing her to loop her leg into it. Tossing her leg into this, she leaned back into the antler, relaxing. Next she discovered that she could even sit on her hip, with her feet splayed to the side, as she often loved to do.  Lastly, she tried sitting up straight, for the sheer novelty of it, to find that the support behind her was exactly as she liked. _How can he possibly know?_ she wondered.

 _Again, meleth, you forget I can read your mind._  

Tired of being outdone, she shot back _Then how is it you did not design this so that I can place my feet in your lap, whilst we sit here?_ she smirked. She gained untold satisfaction from seeing his eyebrows raise, though he did not answer her. 

Looking out, she was just about to move her legs to yet one more position when he swiftly pinned her left leg between the throne and the staff of oak that he held in his hand. Reaching to lightly touch his hand, she sent   _Hîr vuin, I was teasing. I would not do such, nor would I shift about so much were we not alone_ , she sent. _I thank you for this gift, it is exquisite and considerate. I had not expected...anything._

He turned his head to fix his blue eyes on her. _You are welcome, Adonnenniel. Though, I wish to discuss other matters. Please accept my apology, for how I have treated you today. You spoke truly, back in our chambers, though I know it cost you to do so. You showed me continued deference, despite my accusations. But mostly I wish to speak of our visit to Rhistel._ He paused, gazing outward. _Though you have shown glimmers of your emotional abilities before, I was unprepared for their full depths. I can heal his body, but you helped his spirit in a way that I cannot begin to understand.  I want you to know my gratitude, for the healing you brought to him._

Nenni had the barest smile on her face. _I thank you for your apology, which I accept, though it was not needed. And for your kind words, Thranduil. But about two matters, you are in error. You do understand, but the nature of your insight is different. You could not have aided me as you have, with no ability of this kind. You have a potential that in time, will blossom fully. The power in you to work good in this way is as a seed which has only just germinated; whereas the eventuality is already clear, in my sight._

He considered her words. _And the second matter?_ She shook her head lightly. _Disregard, please. It does not need to be said._

 _I insist,_ he sent, reaching to draw her eyes to his.

Seeing he would not back down, she answered. _Very well. That was not within a league, of the full depth of what I am capable._

He released her chin, and she looked away, but not before inclining her head to him in respect. He leaned back. Never before had he heard her lay claim to an ability, a skill, anything at all, without extreme modesty. When he thought of what he'd had to do, just to help her gain a balanced view of her own self worth... For her to assert this from a place of complete assurance carried a great weight.

She found him looking back at her. _Perhaps I should clarify.  The full depth of what I can do will lie ultimately... with you. I possess an unusual and strong perception, and a measure of my own power to wield it. Beyond that, I will shine to the extent that I stand in your own light. What you give me, I will magnify. What you withhold, will cause me to diminish. Together, we are far more than the sum of each of us. Both of us have much to learn yet, about the other._ _I, too, owe an apology. Your spirit was grieved today, about Rhistel and everything to do with what befell him. You are so very strong that it does not occur to me that you also have needs, until what is wrong is knocking me upside the head. I could have looked in on you hours before, but mired in my own difficulties, and an ongoing resistance to viewing your thoughts born of habit and trepidation, I failed you. I promise you, I will pay better attention. Please, díheno nin._

Thranduil's mouth parted in astonishment, as he reflected on the last few hours through the lens of her words. He had watched her turn inside of herself under his unfair accusations, like a flower closing its petals at dusk. When he gave her nothing, she shut herself away from him to seek refuge elsewhere. When he provided her with the simplest relief, a gentle embrace, the process reversed and she opened to him again with all of her heart. She had tried to tell him, 'I cannot long remain, outside of your grace' but he had not understood. Her aid to Rhistel had been just as much for him, as for the young ellon.

"Yes," she said softly, the first word she had spoken since they arrived there, looking out and listening to the word carry back to her ears. _The acoustics in here are marvelous_ , she thought. She placed her hand carefully on his, which still held his staff, and turned her full attention back to him. 

_There is nothing to forgive, Adonnenniel, but thank you. I have learned much, today._

_As have I, Hîr vuin._ She paused. _Is there more to say on this, or may I ask something on a different subject?_

_Please, ask._

_What is this? I mean, I can see that it is a staff, but I gain the impression it is far more than a walking stick. And may I have my leg back, if I promise to remain still?_

Thranduil had forgotten that he'd imprisoned her with it, and sheepishly raised it to offer it to her. _It is a symbol of my authority._

_Different than your crown? I remember on Earth, monarchs had orbs and scepters and...I never exactly understood it all. Usually the person wearing the crown made the rules._

He chuckled softly. _You make a point. I do not always wear my crown, I do not always have my staff, and sometimes I have both. Or neither. You will have a staff, also. Is there a wood you prefer? Mine is of oak._

_Oak suits you very well,_ _Hîr vuin, it is great and strong_ _. There is one, but perhaps it does not exist here? On Earth we called it purple heart, or amaranth. It is a hardwood. The polished wood is quite...purple. Does this exist?_

He smiled. _It grows far to the south of Gondor. I have a small amount, in my holdings. May I ask why you choose this?_

 _Yes, you may. One, the ship I sailed on. The tiller was made from this. I found much of what courage I have, in the hours I clung to it, keeping the ship on course no matter the difficulty._ Images came to him of  her ship at night, plunging into vast canyons of black water illuminated by lightning, as mountainous waves of the same loomed above. Her entire body braced against the tiller, wet hands clamping down with all her might on a device that allowed her some control as the forces of the ocean worked to tear it out from her grasp. Her eyes followed a compass, as she forced her mind to ignore her terror of the storm and fulfill her duty.

 _Second, it is a favorite color of flowers for me, and was a color of royalty, on Earth. Third..._ she swallowed, looking away. _If ever we are ever blessed with a daughter, I will ask to name her Amaranthine. Amaranth. It means, Immortal, in one of the ancient languages of my world._

At that moment, six bells pealed from the clock; an hour before the evening meal. This helped Nenni break a train of thought that threatened tears. Breathing deeply, she changed the subject. _When we come here, and others are present, how do I behave? Does one of us ascend before the other? Sit before the other?_

Thranduil understood the wisdom of not pursuing further any discussion of the staff; she had answered well. 

 _It would be simplest for whoever ascends first to wait for the other, and we will be seated together. I will offer you my hand, should I arrive first. Adonnenniel, I forbid you to curtsey to me here, especially in view of your fear. Even were you as comfortable as a mountain goat, it would still be unsafe._ Leaning far forward to look over the side, her hand on an antler, she looked down.   _Agreed, Hîr vuin._

Nenni took in one last look all around her, glad to have had the time here before anything of an official nature. Reasonably certain she would spend many, many hours in this location, she felt a wish to move on, for now. 

Perceiving this, Thranduil asked, _Shall we?_

She nodded. Eyeing the steps down, Nenni bobbed down them effortlessly using a peculiar cross-footed step that caused his heart to leap into his throat, that she would trip herself. At the bottom, she moved out of his way, staring around some more while waiting for him. Following swiftly, he held her by the shoulders, about to turn and berate her for being unsafe. Only to realize, this was a very ordinary way to descend stairs, in her mind.  He turned aside from the words he was about to speak, swiftly twisting his face into a look of approval, instead. _That went much better, meleth, I am proud of you._ Her face transformed into a dazzling smile, looking back up at him. Her arms wrapped tightly around his waist before releasing him. He offered her his hand, to lead her to their chambers, which she eagerly took. He could feel her contentment, as they walked. He would learn.

"We will eat in the Hall, tonight?" she asked. "Yes, meleth." 

"And tomorrow? May I ask what duties?" 

"Audiences in the morning, more grain and produce from the garden, and then nothing scheduled," he said.  She nodded, as he watched her. "Is there something you wish to do, meleth?" 

"Yes," she said, her eyes suddenly growing cold. "But it will likely have to wait, on account of the weather. I wish to  hunt orcs. May I see the map of the Greenwood, Thranduil?"  He spread it out for her, on their worktable. She retrieved a small bowl of almonds still in their shells. "Please indicate for me the most recent attacks or encounters, as best you are able?"

As he pointed out each location on the map, she asked him  for the date, if he knew. She placed a nut on the site he indicated, and oriented the point of the nut in a particular manner, depending on the information he gave her. "Am I correct in seeing that most activity is still happening on the Forest River path? And confined to two to four leagues distant from the Palace, for the most part?" 

"It would seem so," he said, looking at the pile of nuts. She turned in frustration. "We must find a way to discover whence they come, Hîr vuin," she said. "Gundabad? Dol Guldur? Look how far removed Isengard is, twice distant than Dol Guldur. It makes no sense and yet I saw the symbol on the Orc's armor for myself. There is a connection here that eludes us, and we will never gain advantage until we learn of it. Does no other power for good stand watch against these things?" She walked to the stone bench and plopped down in irritation; searching out answers in the ice crystals forming on the balcony doors.  

Thranduil added more wood to the fire, then poured himself wine before joining her. Twisting around in her seat, she placed her stockinged feet against his legs, letting her head drop back off the armrest of the bench. Her hair cascaded into a pile on the floor. He'd been certain he had seen every odd posture she used, and had just been proven wrong. "The wizard, Radagast, he lives at the south of the other side of the forest, does he not?" 

"He does, meleth, but he does not spend his time tracking orcs." 

"Does he not befriend the beasts and birds, though? More specifically, might he not have a way to ask the eagles?" 

Thranduil frowned. "He might, at that. But it is an eight day journey to Rhosgobel, even in good weather. I would be very reluctant to send a patrol in these conditions."

"Nor would I wish you to, it is too awful outside." She suddenly sat up, twisting around again. "Thranduil," she said, touching his arm, "I want you to know that I sincerely regret that I caused you to go looking for me today. I am very sorry. I felt concern for you, and I can imagine you felt far more for me."

A soft smile curled the corners of his mouth. "Why did you leave, Adonnenniel?"

"I felt overcome by a need to...run. To feel earth pass beneath my feet. Perhaps I also wished to run from here. I could not discern.  I felt...adrift, and I wished to move until I felt better. Different. Something."

"And did you?" 

"Yes. I felt joyful, after a time. At least, until it began to snow so hard. And until I returned to hear you had gone out looking for me. I assume Beren did find you?"

"Yes, he did. You had no thought of going with him, to look for me?"

She smiled. "I had quite a lot of thought. But I have also had wilderness training, though I do not pretend my skills compare anywhere against yours. I know not to create more victims, in a circumstance such as this. I trusted to your skills, and to the dog, to be the far more qualified ones to be out there. I wanted to, but it would have been foolishness to try. And had the route taken me away from the Palace walls, I would have been disobeying you. I did call out to you, in my mind, but you must have been too far away."

"Your choices were sound, meleth; I can find no fault with you. I went out for you because I love you. I feared you were lost or injured. I see now that I did not need to worry so much; you have demonstrated wisdom. I will teach you more, over time. You asked me earlier about the weather. The answer is, I might have noticed some minutes sooner than you, but not by much. Nobody can predict the weather."

Nenni started giggling. "Some things do not change."

"I do not understand, meleth."

"There was a profession on Earth, their job was the study and forecasting of weather. Though they did have some ability, more often than not it went badly. The joke was, it was the only occupation in which one could be wrong three quarters of the time and still keep one's employment."

"I see." He smiled. "Yet one more thing, before the subject changes. I have heard your words. But I wish to know if my behavior toward you was part of the cause of you feeling this need to....run."

She looked away from him. "Yes", she said softly. 

"Was there a specific thing that I did?"

Nenni thought carefully. Looking down, she answered "Some of it was perhaps your silence, which felt to me like aloofness. But in the Hall, at the midday meal, I had placed my hand on your leg, and you asked me if I wanted something. I had only unwittingly reached out to you, to show affection. Your question led me to feel as though I was intruding, unwelcome. I do not blame you, my thoughts were likely mistaken. I feel horrible even saying this, after what you did for me this morning alone. Please do not think I have forgotten your healing of me. You have given me...everything..."  she trailed off, feeling ashamed.

"Stop. Now."  she heard him say.

Startled, she looked up. His face was stern but his eyes were kind as he pulled her toward him. "I am trying to learn, Adonnenniel, and I cannot do that if you use my questions as an opportunity to slice yourself apart with blame." He took her chin. "If I wish to find fault, I do not believe I need assistance from you. I am rather good at it, on my own." She saw the twinkle in his eye, and smiled, nodding. He reached out, stroking her cheek. Standing, he offered his hand. "Come, my Queen, let me style your hair before we depart. I cannot have my reputation suffer."

Soon he was combing and braiding to his heart's content. Quiet, and enjoying his touches, her mind drifted back to the Vaughn Williams music. How odd, that it had taken that particular stress to bring it back to her.  She had long said that if there was ever a piece she must listen to, played in a loop, for all eternity; it was that. Hopefully, she never would forget it.

"Elvish memories are perfect, meleth. If you know it now, you cannot forget it. "

"You...listened?" she asked. 

"I did. And while I know you are not sorry you remembered it, I am sorry to have pushed you to such a place. It...is among the most beautiful music I have ever heard."

"That I came back to find myself held by you, makes it a memory of happiness. There is grace in your touch,  Thranduil," she said in a whisper. He finished with her hair, and replaced her circlet. "Thank you, very much."  They departed for the Hall, returning after enjoying a hearty meal. As they ambled back into the chambers, Nenni passed the worktable and froze. "A bird. A bird could fly to Rhosgobel, in a day. What do you think, Hîr vuin? Is asking for help in this manner worth consideration?"  Beren, having just licked up the last of his extra large dinner, gave a satisfied belch and lumbered back to the bed.

He frowned. "Let me think on it further, meleth. It is a serious consideration, to risk the lives of those that aid us. And there is more besides. But the idea certainly has merit. We will discuss it again." She bowed her head to him.

The gown was traded in for night clothes immediately. Though the day had ended well, it had been filled with stress. Nenni laid down next to Beren, to stroke his fur for a moment. 

When Thranduil looked over on her, she was sound asleep. Though it was yet early, he found he wished for nothing more than to lie next to her. Stripping off his clothes and dimming the candles, he pulled back the covers and carefully lifted her to what had become "their" side of the bed. _Eru be praised, his bed was large enough for eight people, as much room as the hound took up._ He covered them both, and pulled her into his arms. She woke just enough to find and enclose his arm with her fingers. His last thought was of the sound of the storm, whistling through the forest outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A serious earworm helped write this chapter. Thompson Twins, extended version of Lay Your Hands on Me. What can I say, 80's flashback chapter....;-)
> 
> "Needs must I like it well: I weep for joy To stand upon my kingdom once again." (Shakespeare, Richard II, Act 3 Scene 2)]


	19. Two and a Half Days' Dreaming - Day One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rhiw 30, Imladris, August 21, earth time, Gregorian
> 
> This is a plot bunny that would not be denied. I tried hard to fight it, I really did, but the wabbit won in the end...and even I was surprised at how it worked out.

Nenni dreamed it was another hot August morning on the farm, with the usual  six o'clock screaming of her more than twenty peacocks, doing their worst. She squeezed her eyes more tightly shut. _Goddamn the one right outside her bedroom window,_ she thought. _I will tag and barbecue that piece of shite, if it is the last thing I do._ Nenni thought this each morning from mid January until September, every year, and had never made good on it. With all the seeming volume of a megaphone, a commanding male voice filled her mind. 

**"You will learn of each other, this way, especially little Thranduil. You are given sixty of your hours, and you will return."**

Gasping, she sat up in bed, but saw nothing around her but her books and the early morning light she was so adept at ignoring streaming into her windows. She reached over to check the time on her cell phone; it was just past 6:15. Looking down at her hands, she saw her wedding rings glinting on her finger, and the now too-warm clothes on her body...clothes that did not belong to this world. "What?..." she cried, turning herself around to see the naked body of her husband propped up on his elbow, a look of incomprehension on his face. Nenni was badly jarred. She reached up to feel her ears, which were yet pointed. Launching up, she raced for the back door. Opening it wide, she looked out to see the ordinary view from this location; the gaping maw of her root cellar, the trees, the chickens bustling around the back porch. Closing the door behind her softly, she returned to the bedroom, half expecting to find it empty. It was not. The Elvenking stood at the side of the bed, slowly taking in every detail of the little room. 

"Did you hear it too, Thranduil, or am I going mad?" she whispered, still speaking Sindarin. As his eyes turned to hers, they looked almost sapphire in color. 

"I heard the voice also, Adonnenniel. Do I presume I am on... Earth?" he asked, a tinge of fear in his voice. 

"I do not see a better explanation, Hîr vuin. This is my farm, and we are in my bedroom. Such as it is," she said, acutely aware of the difference between the shabby trappings of her old life, and his own. "It is apparently the morning after the day I was taken from this place."

He looked down. "I am not your Lord here, Adonnenniel. We are not in my Realm, nor even in my world. I must wonder if that is part of the lesson I am sent here to learn, for this cannot be other than about me."  

"You will always be Hîr vuin, Thranduil, but I understand your words. The voice said we have two and a half days. I am...supposed to show you my world?" she asked, still baffled at what the reason for this could possibly be. But she sobered, quickly. This was a second chance to set her affairs in order, as well. 

"So it would seem. Just as you had to rely on me for everything, I am now in the same position."

She felt a weight of responsibility. "Thranduil," she said softly. "Be at ease, I will certainly care for you. But let us assess a few things, first." 

 _Can we still speak with our minds?_ she sent. 

 _Yes,_ came the swift reply. 

Nenni walked to her bookcase, picking up the machete that rested on top of the books. Swiftly, before he could protest, she nicked the back of her arm with the blade. Holding it to him, she asked "Can you heal it?" Reaching his hand to cover the wound, he restored her flesh.

"It stands to reason that we are here, with our gifts intact. You must understand, Thranduil, above all other things, it is of utmost importance that we not reveal ourselves as elves. The people of my world are deeply paranoid at heart, and nothing good would come of discovery. There are no such things here as elves, dwarves, ents, orcs or halflings; there are only humans and animals. In sight of others, we must hide our ears. The rest, I will make up as I go along."

She looked at his bewildered face, going to him and placing her hands on his shoulders. "I will look after you here, Thranduil, as you have done for me. I will not allow any harm to come to you. We may as well make the best of it. Much will be strange to you. Ask me anything you wish. Come," she said, taking his hand. "I will make us coffee." She led him through the doorway to the living room, releasing his hand in an area that seemed connected to the preparation of food. 

 _Everything here is so...small, cramped_ , he thought. _Little speaks of any wealth; yet all is ordered, and clean._

"You may look around if it pleases you. This will only take a moment." He did not move, watching in fascination as she clicked a small device and fire erupted under her hands, over which she set a kettle. He saw her connect a string into...something, pausing to hold an open sack up to him. "Does this smell good to you?" she asked. "We make a hot beverage from it, though I am not certain you will care for it. For many years, I did not."  

He had no way to describe the robust yet alien smell. "It is neither good nor bad, meleth, it is too unusual for me to say."

 She smiled. "We will try, and if you dislike it, we have tea in this world."

"This will be noisy, Thranduil, but it will not last long," she warned, before she turned the dial on the coffee grinder. 

His eyes widened as the little machine roared to life. He also saw a device that turned of its own accord in the nearby room, moving the air. "You have magic, here?" he asked, as he watched the ceiling fan. 

"None whatsoever. The day I spoke with your advisors, I told them about energy, electricity. Much of what you will see are machines, devices, powered by electricity or other means. Electricity runs that fan, the coffee grinder, these lights", she flipped a switch on and off to show him. "Electricity can kill, but we have found how to safely use it. Do not...investigate the power sources too closely without me. You can come to harm, not to mention shorting out the house." 

Having set the coffee pot into motion, she took his hand to show him the things in the home. Returning to the bedroom, she showed him the toilet and shower, and explained...toilet paper. And how to flush. Taking him to the closets, she held up some of Michael's clothes to him, which thankfully she had not yet given away. "My deceased husband was very close in size to you, though your body is of a more athletic build. I believe we can make do with some of his clothes, for you. And shoes"...she found a pair of slippers. "Do these fit your feet, Thranduil?" 

"Yes, very well."  

"And these?" She found a pair of the sturdy workboots, helping guide his feet into them and lacing them for him. 

"These fit passably well also, meleth." 

 _Who'd have guessed?_ she thought, hardly believing their luck on that one.

Removing them, she rose back up, brushing against his genitals as she tried to maneuver in the extremely confined space of the closet. Immediately she felt his desire fill her mind. Looking at him, she could not but concur. The bed was two steps away. "Lie down," she said. "Here is something you might enjoy. It acts like oil, but is different." She reached for the bottle of silicone lubricant, pouring a generous amount into her hand before working it around his hardening manhood. His lips parted in astonishment at a sensation of liquid silk on his skin. "How may I best please you, Thranduil?" she asked. 

He rose up. "Allow me, meleth. I will have none of the control to which I am accustomed, in my time here. Would you grant me this?" Smiling, she nodded. He gently pushed her back, taking her hips in his hands. Trying to position himself, his foot slid against an uncomfortably hard metal object buried under her pillows. Frowning, he retrieved it. Looking round to see what had caused him to pause, she said calmly "That is a weapon. If you place it carefully down on the floor, it will be fine."

"How does it work?" he asked, distracted, turning it in his hands. 

"Stop and do not move," she said forcefully. He froze. Placing her hands around his, she said "Relax your fingers but do not move them." She gently slid his finger off the trigger and rotated the barrel of the gun away from her. "You did well," she said. "This is a gun, a firearm. A handgun, specifically, on account of its size. It is meant to kill at close range. She slid the cylinder latch to expose the chamber, and ejected the rounds. "These," she said, handing him one, "are bullets. There is an explosive inside, that fires this part of the bullet out of the barrel with unimaginable force." She showed him the rifling down the barrel of the gun that allowed the bullet to track in a straight line. "Anytime you handle a gun, whether or not you know it has bullets, you must always treat it as though it is loaded and ready to kill. The barrel must never be aimed in the direction of anything you do not wish dead. This is the trigger; pulling it backward causes the hammer to shoot the bullet. Later on, you may fire it if you wish, outside." Replacing the bullets, she showed him how she kept five rounds in the chamber, with the empty slot set at the firing pin, and clicked the cylinder back into place. She set it on the bookshelf. 

His eyes were wide. "I am sorry, meleth, I see now that I must be very cautious here with objects I do not understand."

She ruffled his hair. "You did nothing wrong, you were only curious. Guns are one of a few things here, though, that must be treated with very great respect. Many are killed by them, on accident. Most of them children. There can never be any carelessness with them." He saw that her face appeared serene."I believe you were occupied with something, beforehand?" she said, her hand sliding down to tease him with several expertly feathered strokes over his glans. 

"So I was," he said, resuming his task. In under a minute she was moaning from his attentions, the heat within her rising quickly. 

"Please, I wish to finish with you inside of me," she begged. 

"And so you shall," he said, swiftly entering her. How he could move as quickly as he did, she would never understand. A low groan came from her, so satisfying was it to feel him fill her. He followed with a hard thrust, that caused her to cry out. The second after she made the sound, the peacocks screamed. Thranduil looked at the window in bewilderment as he pushed into her steadily. He thrust hard again, earning an even louder cry from her. The cacophony of birds screamed again. He shook his head, smiling. _Could he make her scream again, here?_ "What your noises do to me, meleth," he said, his voice husky with desire, as he claimed her parted lips with his mouth, tasting her. He stopped moving inside of her, to sample the skin of her throat, her chest, her breast. Her hard nipple invited him, and he sucked on it eagerly, causing her to writhe underneath him. "Oh please," she said, gasping as he pulled out of her, drawing her to a seated position. 

"I want to feel your mouth, Adonnenniel," he said, bringing his swollen member to her. She took all of him in, enjoying her own taste as she did so. Her tongue and lips moved lavishly on him, until he was very close. Pulling away, he now pushed her back down. Spreading her legs, he took a luxurious taste of her cleft before entering her again. Each thrust was swift and hard, now, but with time in between each one. The sounds he drew from her drove him mad. "I will give you your release, if you will scream for me, Adonnenniel, he whispered into her ear."  

 _They are your ears to ruin,_ he heard back in his mind.

 "Then we have an agreement?" he said, careful not to let her off the hook.

"Yes, Thranduil. Please...." He now changed his pleasuring to something that would take her to climax. Swiftly she felt herself building as he drove her onward. When her orgasm began to break over her, she took a deep breath and gave him the long, piercing scream he'd asked for. Every peacock on the farm shrieked from the noise, drowning out his own cry of ecstasy as he released himself inside of her. When they recovered, some minutes later, she kissed him said, "Thank you, beloved. Assuming you still have hearing to understand me, join me, if you wish to clean up." She flitted to the bathroom to turn on the shower, and quickly twisted her hair up. Buried deep in her cabinet were some clips with which to keep it in place. She eyed the razors that sat in the shower. _May as well send those to the trash_ , she thought. There were little things she could do, to set this place in order. Her mind was already forming  a plan. Painful though it would be, there would need to be conversation with her friend Brian, and the sooner the better.  

She saw a pair of sparkling blue eyes peeking over the shower stall at her. "Get in here, troublemaker," she said, laughing, opening the door for him. Pouring a generous measure of Dr. Bronner's rose scented soap into her hands, she lathered him up...all of him, in the confined space, enjoying the feel of pressing her body against his. 

"How in Eru's name did you manage to live in such tiny compartments?" he said, laughing at her squirming around him, as he appreciated the smell of the soap. 

"For a person of my means, what you see is average. My farm lacks much in the way of luxury or nice furnishings. It was what I sacrificed to own as much land as I have. But space-wise, this home is rather ordinary. Some are tinier yet, and some are larger. You will see." Rinsing them both, she gave him a clean towel, and dried herself. She changed into summer clothes. There would be no time wasted on work, except to quickly set up care for the animals. For Thranduil she found a pair of shorts, sandals, and a black t shirt, showing him the closures. He looked so very...different, and yet not. _He would look regal in a feed sack_ , she thought.

She returned him to the kitchen, where the kettle had been whiffing quietly; long ago Nenni had learned to leave it on a low heat, as something always distracted her while it was heating. She poured herself coffee. "Take a small sip, it will be hot. The taste may not please you, it is slightly bitter. It is very different, sweetened. Yet some like it as-is." 

Taking a small sip, he made a face, returning the cup to her. She adjusted it, with lots of cream and half the sugar she would use. "Try again?" 

His eyes widened in pleasure. "This is very nice, now. You called it coffee?" Nodding, she poured herself a cup, and made it as she preferred. Walking past him, she now indicated the piano and wood stove. Four bells chimed, as they stood there. Thranduil said in astonishment, "It is like the clock in my Halls?" 

Nenni smiled at him. "It was a great comfort to me, when I arrived, and learned that your Halls keep time in the manner of the sailors of earth. That is called a ship's bell, to ring the watches on board ship. It is...unusual to know this timekeeping here, unless one has gone to sea."

Past the kitchen was the room with the television, which she also indicated. Last, she showed him the second bathroom, and the machines that washed clothing. Opening the back door, she gestured for him to come outside, closing it behind her. "It will become very hot in a few hours, so I would like to show you what is here, before then."

As he saw her car for the first time, he went to it. "This is a cart?" he asked, seeing the wheels. 

"No, _that_ is a cart", gesturing to the small one she had nearby. "This is a car, an automobile. We will probably spend a good portion of our time in it; it is a transportation device. I intend to show you far more than this farm, in the time we have."

First they stopped in at the little greenhouse, where he was fascinated by the water wand. She sighed. "I need to just let what is in here die, really. It will anyway, and we cannot afford to waste time on anything that does not really matter. Come, let us look at the whole farm. It will just be some minutes' walking around." They meandered past all the fruit trees, her vegetable gardens, every nook and cranny; it really did not take that long. She opened every gate for the birds, and scattered a sack of feed for them. "Would you like more coffee, Thranduil, and are you hungry?" 

"Yes to both, meleth." 

Stopping at the main vegetable garden, she piled tomatoes, basil and a few squashes into his arms. Directing him past the peach trees, she added some of those as well. And because she could not resist, she tested her gift on a green peach that hung nearby. It grew and ripened as she asked it to, and the feel of it to her was as in the forest at home. _Good to know._ Lastly she found one perfect chocolate persimmon, holding it to his mouth for him to bite into. She smiled at the look of astonishment on his face, at the exquisite flavor. "Thranduil, do you think it would be permitted for me to bring anything back with me? I am thinking of how nice it would be to return with seeds for some of what is here, things that are not in Arda. But I do not wish to offend those who sent us here," she added. 

"You came to me with the almonds in your pocket. Perhaps some things, so pure in intention, they would allow. I see no transgression in trying, meleth." 

"Then," she said, "I will take a small bag, and add in loose seeds from my collection. If it arrives home with us, I can sort them afterward."

Returning to the kitchen, she prepared him breakfast. The food processor made quick work of dough for tortillas. It could rest, while she cooked scrambled eggs with the fresh garden vegetables. "Can you grate some cheese for me?" she asked, handing both to him and indicating what to do. Once the vegetables were sautéing, she rolled out the little flatbreads, while he watched in fascination as they rose and puffed on the iron griddle. "I see you are very skilled at this, Adonnenniel," he said, appreciative of the smells that were reaching his nose. 

A smile graced her lips. "I have skills that would rate as Well Above Average, here. Your kitchen staff are of far greater caliber. What I did for a living was to teach people how to cook and eat real food. What we are doing here, eating this fresh food so ordinary for you, is not what most people have. It is a rare thing. Most in our country live disconnected from nature, eating matter that looks and tastes like food but is not."

She served both of them, showing him to eat at the coffee table or with his plate in his lap, however he preferred. "I apologize to you, Thranduil, that my manner of living here is so far beneath that to which you are accustomed. I do have some nicer things by which I might honor your visit to Earth, but I cannot justify spending the time on them. I would ask you now, what do you most desire to see? The world of the Edain, the natural beauty of this world, or a mixture of both? We are not far from one of the great cities of men; a place I would show you, if you are willing." 

He reflected. "I think a mixture of both, meleth. Thinking carefully on the words spoken to us, I believe I am sent here to understand better the world that shaped...you. And, to gain a sense of your experience in coming to me. In this first hour alone, I am seeing what it is to be lost and unaware in an unfamiliar setting. It is a difficult feeling. I have no choice but to trust you. When I reflect on your first conscious hour in my Realm, and what I demanded of you...I had no perspective by which to consider anything different. I showed you no empathy. I believe the Valar wish to change that." 

She nodded. "It will be as you wish. But, there is something I need to ask of you." Looking up at him, already struggling against tears, she said "I need you to exert control over my emotions. There is something very difficult that I must do, before we launch onto this grand adventure of ours. Please." Immediately she felt his calm descend over her mind. Breathing deeply, she thanked him.

 "Meleth, what is this about?" 

"I have an opportunity, Thranduil. You recall that there was an evening you found me bitterly mourning the loss of my best friend. By being sent here, I have a chance to set my affairs in order in this world. I can arrange that what I possess here will be transferred to him, when we depart. This farm, what wealth I have, the care of my animals; he can care for all of these things. But I am going to have to speak with him, the sooner the better, to tell him of this. It would be a blessing to not have the conversation, lost to tears. And, I would like you to meet him." 

"He is nearby?" 

She smiled. "No, but we have ways around that. Finish your meal, and then follow me into this other room." Just then, Thranduil heard rattling behind him. Startled, he whipped around. He found himself face to face with the peacock that was displaying, just on the other side of the picture window. He'd seen a few of the birds on their walk, but they had not been doing this. Entranced, he saw the morning sunlight glinting off the bird's iridescent fan, as it slowly danced in a circle. The colors dazzled. Looking further on, he saw the white one that she had showed him in her mind, weeks ago, doing the same. His lips were parted in wonder, and his appreciation was obvious. Nenni treasured seeing him, see them. "Now you see, why I thought them so perfect for you," she said softly. "They are also beautiful, and regal."

With that, she turned and went into the room she had indicated, leaving the door open. Organizing her thoughts, she logged into the computer and swiftly paid off all the bills she had in front of her, and ensured that a respectable sum of cash was transferred to her checking account from her inheritance. Retrieving her purse, she also made certain that all of her bank cards were in order. And, she took a moment to extract a fair amount of cash, from the place she hid that in her home. While she did not expect their sojourn to be extraordinarily costly, she would deny him nothing that he might wish to see, or explore. Next she glanced at the small number of her client accounts, and ensured adequate money was available to refund all of them... when her business completely ceased to exist in...three more days. Lastly, she took a pen and a clean piece of paper, and in her own handwriting indicated her wishes regarding Brian, and her finances. Not being certain, she wrote it as a Last Will and Testament. She would take it to the notary, as they left town, and have her signature of it recorded.  _This is very hard to believe,_ she thought. But the sight of her wedding rings anchored her. Her life in the Woodland Realm was very real, she reminded herself.

Soon enough Thranduil joined her, and she gestured for him to sit in the spare chair. The computer mesmerized him. "May I touch...that?" he asked, pointing at the screen. 

"Yes, though it will only feel like smooth glass" she said. "This is a computer, a very advanced form of machine. As are these," she gestured to the smartphone and tablets in front of her, "which are smaller versions of what I am using now. I am connected to something known as the Internet, which is a vast network of information that contains much of the collected knowledge of mankind. The Internet connects computers like this one, all across the developed places of the Earth. From right here, I can show you our entire planet and most of the things on it." 

He smiled. "You are teasing me, Adonnenniel. That cannot be possible." She looked over at him with a vague expression of sympathy, and double-clicked on the Google Earth icon. As the globe swelled up on the screen, she explained "This is our planet, Earth, as viewed from outer space. The land masses and the seas. This is where you and I are, upon it, at this time." She clicked on the bookmark for her farm. His mouth made a perfect "O" as the globe turned and the images zoomed before his eyes, to finally seem to float in the air over the home and the very room in which they now sat. She zoomed out again. "These", she indicated, "are the United States of America, of which I am a citizen. Was a citizen," she said softly. "Actually, I am not sure what I am, at this exact moment in time." 

Taking his hand, she said gently, "I will never jest with you here, Thranduil, it would be cruel. What you encounter here, the technology we have, may be difficult for you to absorb. How we live here, in some ways, may feel like an assault on your mind and your sensibilities. All I can ask is that you bring your strength to your time here, and tell me your needs. We have eternity for me to explain what you have seen once we return to Ennor, but little time for you to see it."  She sighed. "And now, I have a phone call to make." Just as she was about to click the call button, something potentially unpleasant occurred to her.

"Thranduil...before I came to you, my language was, ah, not always the refined speech that you expect from me. In fact, it was often extremely coarse. Which is to say, outright vulgar. I ask for your forbearance through whatever you may now hear, until we return home. I can speak as you prefer, but Brian will not know that anything has changed. Communication here between people has many...nuances." Nenni looked to him first. 

He nodded. "You are not under obligation to me, here, meleth." 

She bowed her head, looking at the carpet. "That could be argued on a technicality, I suppose. But my heart is not a pretzel, and I cannot so simply abandon my regard for you. Not to mention, you may find that dropping all of your expectations will prove more difficult than you think." The corners of her mouth curled up subtly, when she spoke the last sentence. Hurriedly, she suppressed her private opinions concerning how long it would be before he commanded her to do something.

He watched her fingers fly around on lettered squares, seeing how the writing appeared on the screen as fast as she could tap, clicking with her fingers on a white oval object from time to time. His rapt attention was obvious, even in her peripheral vision. "It is called typing, and the object is a keyboard, the white oval is called a mouse. Before you ask, I am unusually skilled at typing; it is not normal to be able to type this quickly." Thranduil heard a ringing sound from the computer, and then a masculine voice out of nowhere said 

"Nenni! What are you doing up at this hour, girl?" 

 Nenni laughed at him, as all conversation switched to English. "Good morning to you too, Brian; I know I can always count on you to understand my tendencies." 

Brian laughed "What are BFFs for? Besides, at least you're probably not flipping me off through the computer." 

"Well, that brings me nicely to the next thing. You'd know what my fingers were doing, if you could see me," she said silkily. But she returned to seriousness immediately. "Actually, Brian, something has come up that is really, really important, and I don't have much time. I need for us to have a video call, in complete privacy on your end, as soon as possible. Can that work out?" 

"Yeah....we could do that now, I have about an hour before I have to wake up Madison to get him ready for school... Is everything OK, Nenni?"  

"Yes, and no," she said, heavily. "I need the video call because it is the only way I am going to be able to have you understand something. Otherwise, you will be fairly convinced that I need hospitalization for mental illness. More than usual. What I have to say is going to be very hard for you to believe, and I promise you I'm about to screw your entire day. Even if it is six whatever o'clock in the morning."

The voice on the other end of the line grew very quiet. "Nenni, you're scaring me. What's going on?"

She sighed. "Look, I have been given a chance that I'm not going to get again. There is really important stuff we have to talk about. It isn't a joke, and I'm serious when I say I don't have much time. Please. Video call. Now."

"OK, OK. Let me switch over to Facebook."

"Good," she said, "see you there in a few seconds." She clicked to hang up.

She looked down. "If you weren't here right now, Thranduil, I'd be sobbing for all I'm worth. Are you ready for how much you're going to have to intervene, for me? This is going to be the hardest conversation I've have ever had, and I have a feeling my time here is going to be riddled with interludes of this sort. I need you, desperately." Nenni looked at him, her eyes pleading. 

He leaned forward. "I have you, meleth, I will not let you fall." She reached out to touch his cheek as the call rang in. "I love you, Thranduil." Taking a deep breath, she answered.

Brian's face filled the screen. "OK, Nenni, here we are and....what happened to your hair? Is that a wig? And damn, girl, you look GOOD. You look like you lost ten years. What the fuck?"

She smiled, her eyes lighting up to see him. "See, this is why we needed the video, for your keen powers of observation." 

Brian flipped her off.

"I can accept that. But I repeat," her face dropping into earnestness,  "I want you to know that everything I am about to say is not a joke, I'm not kidding; I'm as serious as I've ever been in all our years together." She paused, taking a deep breath, looking into her lap before gaining the courage to look up again. "I thought I would never see you again, because for the past four months, I have been somewhere else. I was sent back this morning, for sixty hours. Given that two hours have already elapsed, in about 58 hours from now I will be returned. We won't see or talk to each other ever again."

"Okaaaaaaaay...you realize we just talked to each other three days ago, right?" 

"Yeah, I know what it sounds like. Where I was is not here, and not in this time. If you want to know, I have found out the hard way that Middle Earth is real. As in, the Hobbit and Lord of the Rings, Middle Earth. It isn't a story, it is as solid and in existence as where we are now. I was taken there, because...I was apparently never meant to be here in the first place. Look I know this sounds mental, but it doesn't make it a lie or a delusion. I know you can't see all of it, so yes, this is my real hair" she held up the cascading locks of it, and tugged at it firmly to show it was not a wig. "It grew out when I changed."

"What do you mean, changed, Nenni?" She sighed. 

"I'm not human any more. I'm an elf. Do you see these ears?" she turned her head. "You can't see it through the computer, but I'm also four inches taller. And immortal. And....married." She held up her hand to the camera. "These are my wedding rings. My husband is here, with me, and you're going to recognize him." 

She paused, and sighed.  "God I hope you poured booze into your coffee before this call. Brian, I'd like you to meet Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm. He is my King, and my husband." Nenni reached forward and tilted the computer so that its camera captured both of them. Thranduil's ears were plainly visible, as well. "Do you believe me now?" she asked him, pleadingly.

Brian's mouth hung open, as his eyes widened, taking in the ethereal beauty and penetrating blue eyes of someone he was certain was only a character in a film. Book. Whatever. "Nenni....."

"I know, Brian, I know" she said miserably. "I wish there was a better way to tell you this but I didn't know how else to get you to believe me."

Clearing his throat from the emotions beginning to choke him, he said, "I'm pleased to meet you, King Thranduil. I...you will have to forgive me, this doesn't happen every day." 

Thranduil looked serenely at the image on the screen. "You mean a great deal to Adonnenniel, Brian. I am honored to meet you, and would thank you for everything you have done to help her in her life here."

"He uses my real name," she told Brian, her mind beginning to spin with all the thoughts running through it. "I find I have come to like it a great deal. Anyway. Listen. Like I said, 58 hours, and we are gone.

So, here is the deal. I am giving you everything. I am going to write you into the trust that I already have as the sole executor, inheritor, possessor, whatever. The farm, what mom and dad gave me, everything; it's all yours in three days. Sell it, do whatever you want with it. All I ask is that you honor the provision to get already specified sums of money into the hands of Michael's sons, at the times indicated in the trust. The only thing I'm not sure of is, there won't be a body by which to claim I'm dead, but I will be as good as dead to this world. Maybe we can fake a drowning or ...something. If something good can come out of this mess of a visit, like you having all my stuff so that you can quit working so hard, then that makes me happy.  You are the one who is so good at figuring things out. It would be a great help to me if you could drop everything and work on this. Declare a family emergency. Whatever. Find out what is involved to ensure there are no legal tangles once I'm gone. Hell if you can, get up here. I am going to be taking Thranduil on a road trip; he is here to see what I can show him of my world. If you could join us, so we could have one last hurrah, I would love that. I can buy you a ticket and send you whatever cash you need. You could help drive." With that, she stopped her verbal whirlwind, staring back at the screen.

Brian's eyes had grown wide, hearing this volley of information. "There is smoke coming out of your ears, Brian," she teased. 

A one-fingered salute was held up squarely to the camera. 

Nenni laughed. "OK I deserved that too. I love you, Brian." There was a considerable pause, during which Thranduil searched her thoughts for the meaning of this hand gesture. His eyebrows raised, but he said nothing.

"Alright. It's going to take me a few hours to pull this off, and I do have to get Madison to school. The hard part is, what am I going to say to  Ina? In a million years, Nenni, she is not going to be able to believe this, you know that."

"Don't make it harder than it is. Tell her that I'm having a personal crisis and that you have to come up here, now, and that you think part of it might be medical. Say you aren't sure, just that you unquestionably have to go, and that I'm paying  your expenses, and more besides. Here," she reached around for her purse, digging out her cards, "take screen shots of each side of this. Book yourself a flight to San Francisco.  Pack lightly for both heat and cold. We can settle our affairs on the road; I have no intention of wasting what time we have sitting in Talein. The car will be yours, once we are gone. Just don't take out my credit rating in the first week," she teased again. 

"I hate you Nenni, when I don't love you," he said. 

"I know. I'll have my phone on me. Let me know where and when. I love you, Brian," she said.

"Love you too, Nenni" he said, pausing. "You know, you always used to flip me shit about my life being upside down. Now who's talking, girlfriend?" 

She laughed. "See? It's good to be vindicated, isn't it? You're just lucky I left my crown at home. You've lost the privilege of ignoring me while I order you around." 

Brian's face turned serious. "You're a....?" As he asked, he saw her face become sober.

"Queen. Yeah. I took my vows just over a day ago, to serve the Realm, under my King, all the days of my life. And I'm very grateful, and happy. The only thing I've really had to let go of is...you. But at least I get this chance to be here, now. I'm not going to complain. My life is everything I could ever have wanted. And even Beren is there, Brian. He came with me, when I was taken.  OK, I'll shut up. We will have time to talk, soon. Do your thing, BFF." 

"See you soon, Nenni."

"Love you Bye." she said, reaching out to end the call. She felt nothing, and she was so very, very grateful. Turning, she wrapped her arms around Thranduil, holding him tightly. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you."

"Your relationship with him is most unusual, meleth. You were never...?" 

"No, never. We had the opportunity, but from the first, we came to see each other more like brother and sister. Or something like that. There is nothing we have not told each other,  we talk about absolutely everything, and the idea of a romantic or physical relationship with him has always seemed completely revolting. And vice versa. Our connection is one of the mind, the intellect. We are not the same, as persons, but have always been...as you see us now. He is very outgoing, very confident. He has a brilliant mind for analysis, learning, and problem solving, as well as being very emotionally attuned. I apologize, I should have first asked you if you minded my invitation to him. That idea sort of...came out of nowhere, as I spoke. But I think you will find he will enhance your time here. He is one of very few that I fully trust."

Rising, Nenni said, "Apparently, I need to pack us up. I have my finances in order, more or less, and, we should find you more clothes." 

Taking him back to the bedroom, she had him try on clothes in rapid succession. Thankfully, everything fit or fit just a little loosely. She selected the nicest of them, what did it matter? "Are they comfortable enough,  Thranduil?" she asked. 

"They are very acceptable, meleth. Everything is new to me. The fabrics are all very different." 

"Clothes here are made by machine. The quality is assuredly satisfactory, yet lacking the luxury of your garments at home." 

She next rooted through her collection of hair accessories, and handed him a comb. "Please, braid my hair into a style that covers my ears as best you can manage. I think for me, this alone, and a hat just in case, will suffice." He swiftly complied, and she took the end, showing him how to use the elastic bands to keep them in place.  "Your turn," she said, "please sit." Carefully she gathered his hair loosely to pull it to a ponytail, only to realize that gathering his hair did more to reveal his ears than not. If it were loose, it would often obscure them. Hooded sweatshirt, or knit cap.  There was no other choice. Fortunately her collection of baseball items included two nice SF Giants watch caps.   _He looks stunning in black_ , she thought.

 Suddenly the silence between them was broken by a male voice inside the home. 

"Anybody here?," it called out. 

Nenni immediately froze, growing livid. _You have got to be fucking kidding me, she thought_ , completely forgetting Thranduil's preferences. It was impossible not to recognize the voice of the her former lover, the man who wronged her in more ways than she cared to remember. For him to enter her home, unwelcome, after years of them not even speaking to each other, was beyond the pale. Thranduil saw the look come over her face, and entered her mind. Swiftly and silently Nenni went to the bookcase, retrieving her handgun. She chambered it to a live round, and placed it nearby but out of sight. The intruder already stood in the living room, about ten paces away.

_This is not a good person, Thranduil. Be prepared to intervene, but do not reveal yourself yet._

Nenni appeared in the doorway to the bedroom. "You are not exactly welcome here, Dennis. I strongly suggest you turn around and leave, now." She noticed that he looked....horrible, dissipated. The years of using meth and who knows what other drugs had apparently continued their private party with his appearance. _He looks halfway to the fucking Picture of Dorian Gray_ , she thought.

"What are you going to do about it, Nenni, shoot me?" he leered at her. "I don't think you have it in you. Besides, you have something of mine, and I want it."

 _Thranduil, does the sanctity of the mind apply here?_ she asked.

"Are you willing to risk everything on that, Dennis? The way I see it, I have a clear shot and the law on my side. The only thing holding me back is the paperwork, and that I'd hate to ruin the rug. Filth like yourself doesn't belong in a decent home. And whatever of yours it is you imagine I have, the time is long past for you to have any claim to it. So I tell you again, get out of my house, NOW."

_No meleth, it would not. Especially not with one such as this._

Dennis stood a moment, evaluating his chances. 

_Perhaps. I would rather this ended without killing. This man is dangerous, and possibly under the influence of ...medicines. Though, he is no match for your strength. I am more concerned with his memories of seeing us both, it if comes to that._

"You want to know what I think, Nenni? I think you're a little bitch whore that needed to be taught a lesson a long time ago. And I'm just in the mood to give it to you." He began striding across the room toward her. 

She held out her hand forcefully in a gesture of "stop."

_I can erase his memories, meleth. Easily._

Nenni's eyes were ice cold and showed no fear. "Last chance, Dennis. Turn around now, and leave. I'm not as you remember me, and I'm not alone. This can only end badly for you. Your choice entirely."

"You little cunt, what do you think you can do to me?" he said, "I'm the best you ever had."

Nenni laughed. "No, not even close Dennis. The best I've ever had is ten times better than you ever were, and with a heart of light, honesty, and goodness. Do you remember your last words to me? You told me, 'Go find someone better.' And I did, not that you gave me a very difficult challenge. You continue to confuse some ability in bed, with what a woman wants and needs."

Dennis stalked forward again, reaching to take her arm. With blinding speed, Nenni shot out her hand to push against his chest, slamming him into the doorjamb with enough force to make the wall shake. 

_Take him. He is a coward at heart. I do not believe him capable of harming you. I honestly do not care if you need to hurt him. He is worse than an orc._

Temporarily stunned,  Dennis looked up just in time to find the coldest eyes he had ever seen boring into him, as he was taken in the iron grip of a man several inches taller than himself. What was left of Dennis' reasoning realized that here was one who would kill, without hesitation.

With a glacial voice, Thranduil whispered to the whimpering man pinned against the wall. "I do not particularly care for the manner in which you were addressing my wife."

The moment Thranduil took Dennis, Nenni walked to the back door, to determine if anyone had come with him. She saw no other, nor his vehicle.

"How did you get here, Dennis, and what was it you wanted?" Nenni asked.  When he did not answer, she searched his mind. He'd walked, and he'd wanted an old rifle.  She sighed, looking at him. To her, he was as an insect deprived of a wing and a few legs, struggling its last.

_This is unreal. I have not seen this man in years, why today? I should call the authorities and have him arrested and taken away. But it will take precious time that we do not have.  By law, I can kill him for having entered my home with intent to harm me. But that would take even more time, and make a mess for Brian. I do not wish more people to come here on account of him. Then again, I do have a backhoe, and nothing to lose._

_It is not truly in your nature to do that, meleth, though I do see the temptation. He lives nearby?_

She nodded. _We can easily return him to his own land, unseen. Perhaps that is the easiest, if you will take his memories. He came here for a weapon that was his, long ago. Remove that memory also, lest he be inspired to return._

"Let me go, you sonofabitch," Dennis ranted, fighting unsuccessfully against Thranduil's hold. Thranduil squeezed harder, until the man whimpered again.

Nenni spoke, walking up to look coldly into Dennis' eyes from just a few inches away. "Oh, we will let you go, Dennis.  But first, there is something I wish to give you."

Nenni reached back and gave him the strongest slap across the face she could muster. Her hand left a neat imprint across his cheek. "That was a tiny payment against what you meant to do here today. I want you to know that for every manipulative lie you ever told me, every piece of happiness you stole from me, for all your careful attempts to crush my spirit, for every betrayal of the love I freely gave you, I have received a thousandfold in blessings. I am happy, and I have a purpose. Your worthless life will end soon, and with it every foul and rotten thing you've ever done to all those who once called you a friend. You will die unloved and unremembered, except for those who recall what a stain you were on the lives of others. And it is exactly what you deserve." The man said nothing in response. She rolled her eyes in disgust.

Opening the back door, she gestured for him to be brought outside. Vigilantly, Nenni looked for any workers in the orchards as they walked. It was harvest time, and there was far more activity all over the region. In the distance she heard the orchard shakers, but saw no one anywhere near. They forced him on ahead of them for the quarter mile, to the road. Watching until there were no cars, they quickly crossed the road onto his land and into his own orchards. 

 _Confuse him enough that he will not move for about a minute, and we will retreat._ Thranduil nodded to her, and leaving Dennis with his back to them, they withdrew the way they had come. One last glance from the shelter of the trees revealed that he still stood there, not having moved. As they walked back, she sighed. "I am so very sorry that you had to witness that, Thranduil. And I thank you for your help."

"You and he were once...?" 

"Lovers. He was my lover for many years, while I was married to Michael. Much of it was about a desire for sex, but I did genuinely love him. I thought the world of him, actually. I have never been so wrong about another. He is a predator, a very dark and bad person. I did not listen to my intuition, or Michael's intuition, and we paid a very high price. It was perhaps the hardest lesson of my life; I lost confidence in my ability to decide whether or not to trust others," she said quietly.

"What would you have done, had I not been here?" asked Thranduil.

"I would have shot him, and he would now be dead or gravely injured. Probably dead. You know what comes over me. I somehow doubt I would have pulled the trigger only once. Your being here saved his life. I could not be sure that even with my elven strength, that I could fully overpower him; I have not yet tested my body against that of a human male. He meant at the very least to force himself on me. Maybe worse. There would have been no choice."

"Then I am glad I could spare you that burden." He stopped. "These are almond trees, are they not?" 

"Yes. Would you like to see the tree that is the parent of the ones in Arda? It looks different than these."

"Yes, please. But first," he bent down, to kiss her, and embrace her,  "I want you to know that I am proud of how you met this challenge. I can see from your thoughts that such an encounter is not at all a normal occurrence, here. And..."

"Yes?" she said, wondering, seeing that he looked down at the ground.

"I am afraid I could not resist the temptation to administer some of my own justice. I read your memories of him. And I read him as well. He is an evil man, who will now no longer harm others."

"What exactly did you do, if I may ask?"

"I took your words literally, and erased his memories. All of them. He does not now know his own name."

Nenni thought. "Did you do that before I slapped him?"

"Yes," he said sheepishly.

 _Now Dennis' silence made sense._ "Damn. Waste of a good speech. Anyway. We will be leaving, some hours from now. If he is still there, I'll call someone on his behalf. He will not even know to get out of the heat, or return to his home, if what you say is true. I cannot say I am other than pleased, at what you have done; it was a kindness to this world. You have killed his personality, while leaving the body alive. He deserves no better."

Taking her husband by the hand, they strolled to the north side of her farm, that he'd not yet seen. "This is the tree, from where I was taken. There are the branches that fell on me, when the wind blew. Small wonder I had a head injury," she remarked. "And this one over here is the source of the nuts I brought with me. Oh, and look!" she said, distracted. "Figs! You must try one." Pulling him over, she carefully picked one of the tremendously large Brown Turkey figs from her oldest tree, and showed him how to break it in half, handing  him his share. He watched how she bit into it, and then tried the same. His face broke into a smile. "These are wonderful, meleth. Are these tiny things inside the seeds?" She nodded. Some of the inside of this fig was going home with her, if she could help it. 

Returning inside, Nenni swiftly packed the things they might need in earnest, asking Thranduil to help her carry them to the car. She was unclear on her own plans, or if they would return here, but decided that being prepared with a tent, at least for Brian, might not be out of order; Thranduil had lived in his forest for millennia, and did not even need to sleep. Honestly, for them, a blanket would be all they could possibly require. Several towels were already in the car. Cold no longer affected her so much, but she still had respect for mountains and sudden storms, so she ensured that they each had a warm and waterproof garment. Carefully she packed some fruits she had dried, nuts, dried meats and water. It would be simple enough to buy food; no point spending the time on that. Satisfied that they now had the means to travel or do anything conceivable without meaningful detraction, she made one more phone call, to ask the neighbor to watch over the birds, as she checked the water and oil in the car engine. Once that was done, they had only to wait for Brian's call.

She found Thranduil inside, plinking on the piano keys. "You can play this, meleth? Would you show me?" 

"Of course, beloved." Inside of herself, she rolled her eyes. It had taken her over three years to get someone out  to the farm, to  finally tune the century-old upright that had been her childhood instrument. She'd had it done not two months ago...and now it was going to be lost to her again. It couldn't be helped. "Here, help me take the lid off. It is interesting, I'd like you to also see how it works." 

Pulling her loved-to-death copy of the Complete Solo Works of Bach from the shelf, she sat down on the bench. Looking up, she told him, "It has been awhile for me, we will see how this goes. I may ask you to turn the pages for me, as I play. These markings are the language used for music, it is called notation. I read what is written here, and it tells me what to do." There were a few pieces that she had worked on for more than thirty years, somewhat difficult ones that were always a sort of musical battleground. She never could quite master them, but could often play through long stretches without errors, if she practiced enough and the planets were aligned. 

 _Why not_ , she thought, choosing the Fugue to the Chromatic Fantasy. The first part of the piece, the Fantasia, had always eluded her fingers, but the fugue she had reasonably conquered. Taking in the sheet music she'd looked at thousands of times without being able to memorize, her fingers touched the keys. But within five measures, she could feel that something was vastly, indescribably different. The struggle between her mind and her fingers was simply...gone. Her fingers responded to her thoughts in a way that was the stuff of dreams. She felt almost outside her own body, bewildered; she seemingly could not make a mistake. 

 _How many hours, weeks, months, years had she sat here, dreaming of being able to play like this?_ She feared to stop, lest it was some kind of spell that might break if she did. Nenni recognized that likely truth was, this was a manifestation of her elven body and mind. Over and over, she simply sent to Thranduil at the correct time, _turn the page please_. After the final note died away, she burst into tears, shaking her head at what had just happened. It felt...indescribably cruel, to discover this, only to have it taken away. She could sit here all day just to relish playing, but...they could not.

She felt his hands on her back, soothing her. "It was very beautiful, Adonnenniel. I thank you so much. And...I am so sorry about...this." She reached a hand to him, drying her tears. "You are most welcome," she smiled, forcing herself to smile at him. She replaced the wooden covers, closing the keyboard cover and turning away from the piano with an overwhelming sense of bitterness. She breathed deeply, willing herself to let it go. 

Eyeing the seed cabinet, she said, "If I am going to hope to take some seeds with me, I should prepare them now, and we will see what happens." Rising, Nenni went off to find a small drawstring bag that would be suitable, and spent the rest of her time swiftly removing a few seeds from many small packages. It did not take her long. She then opened the persimmon and peach further, to take their seeds as well. She ran out for an early pomegranate, the heirloom apples, and every citrus fruit she could find. In the kitchen, she swiftly took their seeds and dried them on paper towels, and added them to the bag.

Thranduil watched her as she flitted about. He had followed what she experienced,  with the piano, but did not see it quite the same way as she. He had been making a careful study of how the instrument was built, and the workings. It was complex, yes, but he knew that Adonnenniel had no real concept of the skills of elvish craftworkers. The real obstacle was the music book, he thought. A mad idea occurred to him, one he could not say for certain would be permitted. He made up his mind in that moment, that they would create a very modest pile of the things she wanted most from here, all of which seemed to amount to seeds and music. 

"Adonnenniel," he said softly, "I am going to ask you to do something. Ask me no questions, only comply." He looked at her, and she lowered her head in acquiescence. "Bring to me every piece of this written music you wish you could take back to our home, now." The look on her face was very strange, but she did as she was asked, going to a small cabinet where such things were stored. As she handed him papers and thin books, he saw her pull out what looked like an  instrument bundle of some kind, looking at it longingly as well. "What is that, meleth?"

"It is not _it,_ it is _they,_ " she said, unrolling soft fabric to reveal a collection of wooden and plastic...things. "They are called recorders; very old instruments of this world. I had...hoped that they might exist in Ennor, but I think not."

"Play for me, please," he asked. Reaching for another set of papers, she swiftly assembled the pieces of one instrument, and did as he asked. The sound was high, quavering, and impossibly sweet. "That is enough meleth, thank you. Put them away as they were, give them to me, and select your music for them as well. No questions." Again, she did as she was asked. She wished to ask him, could she also include her vocal music in this...whatever he was doing, but he had given her a command. Which, she noted with deeply buried amusement, had taken him less than four hours. 

 _What are a few more?_ she thought, adding several song selections, an opera, and two oratorios. As they were all scored for piano as well, it seemed like a technically allowable assumption. She looked at her collection. She had music for many pieces that had been too difficult, then. But now... _what was the point of all this, anyway?_ In the end, she piled on most of what was in the small cabinet. Taking it from him, she swiftly made two stacks, setting them crosswise on top of each other.  She said to him, gesturing: "What is on top is most precious to me. What is on the bottom is what I could never experience because of lack of skill." 

"And you have your seeds?" 

Nenni handed him the bag. 

"I would ask for some moments of privacy, meleth."

Bowing her head to him, she said, "I will obey you, but ask that you grant me one more minute."  She could not guess what he was doing or planning, but there was yet one more thing.  Hurriedly raiding her closet, she handed him a case containing her violin and bow.

"Before you ask, I cannot play it. But I wish to learn. I will be in the room with the television. Join me when you will, Hîr vuin." As she turned to walk away, after this very strange and vaguely heartbreaking set of requests, she found some small amusement. _You may take the King out of his rulership, but you cannot take the rulership out of the King._ Regardless of his delusions concerning his temporary loss of authority, he still ruled her. She would not seriously think to challenge him, except to keep him from harm. To her, it was not worth breaking form over two and a half days, but she idly wondered how it would be if they were never to leave here. Grinning, she could imagine their first argument about his demeanor. Fortunately, it was never going to happen. 

Pressing a series of buttons to bring the television and sound system to life, Nenni pondered what wonders of the electronic kind she might show him. He might actually find video games amusing. If he wanted to know what shaped her, it was a fair guess that her hundreds of hours logged in this pursuit could count. A few minutes on the XBox 360 games wouldn't hurt, as she made sure her phone was nearby. They'd be hearing from Brian, very soon. Nenni loved to play Skyrim, and swiftly her Dark Elf was racing around on the undead mount Shadowmere, looking for monsters to slay. Relaxing, she felt content. If her mind was riding a horse, so was she.

Once his wife withdrew from the room, Thranduil opened the case to see yet another instrument. He recalled this one, he'd seen her trying to draw it the day he went to her quarters to pry her out of her self-imposed hermitage. Though she had spoken of wishing for music once, and even asked him for something on which to learn to play,  the place music had held in her life and heart was really only now beginning manifest to him. These were not pursuits, or ways to pass the time, as he'd thought; but something far more woven into the core of her psyche. He'd had the information, but not been able to string it together. At Turuhalmë, he had observed her almost unbreakable fascination with the musicians. The closest he could come to it was, this was her forest. In all his long years, the forest around him was what he loved like no other, what had sustained him when nothing else could. Asking her to do without music was like asking him to never look on a tree again. _I did not understand_ , he sighed. Which was why, he hoped to make it right, if it would be allowed. Using ancient words, he gathered all of these objects together in his arms, uttering a spell over them. It acted as a marker, an identifier. Once done, he placed all the things by themselves, on a nearby table.

Dropping to his knees, he begged the Valar for their favor. "I plead with you, Belain, with all of my spirit. Allow, please, the return of these objects to our home, for Adonnenniel. Her love is of music, and growing things. I would see all sorrows leave her heart in time, and I now realize what the loss of her music meant to her. As a child beseeches his parents, so do I ask you now. With humility, I leave this matter in your care." After bowing his forehead to the floor in supplication, Thranduil rose. It would be done, or not. He had tried, for her and for her happiness. He unrolled the cloth holding the recorders, examining them carefully inside and out. Their construction was simple, in contrast to the piano. His memory was flawless, photographic. If nothing else, she would soon have these, even if his prayer was refused.

 As he finished replacing the instruments, a terrific roar assaulted his ears. Hurrying to the next room, he saw her looking fixedly at something, her hands rapidly manipulating a small object she held. Just as swiftly, the noise stopped. Catching sight of his worried expression, Nenni paused her game, and patted the sofa seat next to her. "Please, join me. I told you once about television and video games. I thought you might like to see a little of this, it is the technology of our world, in its use for entertainment." He seated himself, gasping at the still image filling the large screen across from him. "I will reduce the volume, for you. This, in my hands is a controller. My manipulations of these small buttons and...things are what control what my character does on the screen. You can see the image of a warrior fighting a dragon; the warrior is what I am controlling. All the rest is a sophisticated machine that generates every other person and creature as well as the landscapes of this place. Please tell me if it is bothersome to your eyes to watch, some are sickened by this. Ready?" she looked, to gauge his expression. He nodded, interested, but the dragon he did not like to see.

She resumed the action, and Nenni narrated as best she could. "My character is now calling upon a second dragon, a friend, to aid in killing this one. The elemental spirit of fire, and the horse with the glowing red eyes, are also fighting on my behalf." Thranduil watched, disbelieving and recoiling, as the dragon landed and advanced on her. Hurriedly her warrior backed away as the dragon's jaws snapped shut, just missing her. "That was close", she laughed. They move quickly, on the ground." Finally, the last arrow killed the dragon, and its spirit left to be absorbed by the dark elf on the screen. The elf mounted what looked like a horse belonging to a dark power, and rode off through the mountain pathways. Nenni glanced over at Thranduil to see the frozen expression etched on his face. Suddenly it struck her. Looking in on his mind, she found it filled with terrible memories.

She turned his face from the screen to meet her eyes. "Thranduil, díheno nin, I absolutely was not thinking...here, dragons are impossible fictions. I am astounded at my own thoughtlessness. I do not know how to correct my error," she pleaded. "Please, is there something that would comfort you?" She saw his eyes close, and felt herself lifted into his lap. There was barely time to wrap her own arms around his chest before he took her in a very tight hold, and did not let go. Staying with him, she rubbed soft circles on his back, reassuring him. _Nothing that will harm you can happen here, beloved. In this world images on screens appear to be very real, but they are all imaginings. People here are accustomed to extremely realistic entertainments, many of them about terrible subjects. We are desensitized to violence and heartbreak, because we see too much of it in this way. I will not make this mistake twice. I am here, and I will not leave you alone._ Sensing there was more, she paused, her hands still caressing him. _Is this also about your discomfort, in finding yourself here?_  

He nodded, barely perceptibly. _I cannot begin to imagine what this is like for you, who ruled and ordered a kingdom most of your long life. This will end soon, and we will be home before you know it. My King is merely taking what we on Earth call a Forced Vacation. Trust that you will find things here to benefit you, and please you. I know how strong you are, Thranduil. And where you are not, I am here. You must feel better, or I shall have to pour you a bottle of substandard wine, to cheer you up. Or something stronger._

Slowly he released his hold on her, opening his eyes. 

_Stronger?_

"Would you like something alcoholic? I have an appallingly large collection of spirits. They are much stronger than wine." He nodded, releasing her. She could read that he felt calmer. Looking on him, Nenni pondered what he might like. He did not seem to care for sweetness, as much as she did. Bourbon? There were heirloom peaches; the two were a delicious combination and might make the introduction to such blatant ethanol consumption easier. 

"I am going to put something on to watch that you will find completely enjoyable, I promise. It is about the oceans of earth. They are very beautiful." Swiftly she switched over to a documentary she'd enjoyed very much, watching his eyes light up as he saw a coral reef for the first time. In the kitchen she blended two peaches, slipping the perfectly ripe flesh from the pits and skins. They were very sweet, of their own accord. In went three double shots of her best aged bourbon. Ordinarily she would never do this, especially at barely after 9am, but his ability to consume wine was legendary. This would probably level out as an aspirin, to him. She tasted the concoction. Not remotely sweet enough for her, but for most others, that meant it was just right. Pouring it into a glass, she returned to him, offering him the beverage. "Try this, I can sweeten it if you wish."  

Thranduil tasted it experimentally, his eyes widening with pleasure. "It is delicious, meleth, thank you." Nenni took her seat next to him, leaning against him, tucking her feet up underneath her. She was just becoming engrossed in the colorful fish when she heard him speak again. 

"Adonnenniel." 

She turned to look at him. "Yes, Hîr vuin?"

"I forgive you. You did not show me that out of malice, and I saw in your mind that a dragon is one of many things to fight in the...game?...you played. It caught me unawares. But even this occurrence is teaching me, meleth." He slowly turned his glass before drinking more. "I now see all the times I was hard on you for things you could not possibly have realized about living in Ennor. It is all I ever knew, just like being here is so familiar to you. I am not certain I ever even tried to ask you about life on Earth. What little I heard simply left me with no desire to see it. The Valar believe otherwise, and so I will obey them. I know you are trying your best, and that this is not easy for you, either." He leaned over and kissed her. He tasted wonderfully, of bourbon peaches. 

Before more could come of the intimate moment, a loud bird chirp went off next to Nenni. Breaking away from him, she muttered "damn phones."

Reading the text, she said "It's Brian. He will be on the noon flight from southern California, arriving at 1:30. So...we need to leave here by 10:30, to be safe in case there is traffic."  She sighed. "This is going to be quite a roller coaster. And stupid me, I should bring alcohol for Brian. He's going to need it. Please excuse me for just a moment, let me care for that now so I don't forget."

"You will not forget, meleth. Stay here."

"I won't?"

"You will not. You must learn to trust what and who you are now." Breathing deeply, she sat down. "Very well. While we are here, would you like to look on at anything besides fish? I can show you many things, anything, from here as well. Once we leave here we will still have access to the information but not on quite so large or nice of a screen. Outer space, ancient civilizations, war, music, dance, scenic wonders, how the many different peoples live, cities...what would you see, if any of it?"

He thought. "I want to see the things that matter to you, meleth. When you lived here, what filled your mind? What did you care about?

Nenni spent the time showing him videos of many things. She chose from among the same things she tried so desperately to chronicle when she arrived in his Realm. The geysers and pools of Yellowstone, Ancient Greece and Rome, the Spanish Riding School, New York City, the armaments of modern warfare, the wildlife of Africa, some small moments from her favorite ballets and operas, the detonation of an atomic bomb...on and on and on. When they still had a half hour left, she paused. "I made you an offer earlier, if you wished to fire the gun. Or guns, I have more than one. Would you like to? I cannot say if we will return here, and I am not bringing them with us." Thranduil considered. "Yes, show me." 

"Come, then. I need more hands. Taking him around the house, she procured her .357, a .22 pistol that jammed with astounding frequency, two shotguns, and what she fondly referred to as her "museum piece," an  M91 Russian military rifle that had seen service in both World Wars. She found ammunition for the long guns, ear protection and safety glasses, and brought him outside. She explained to him the principle, how to aim, and that the gun would recoil. Feeling completely mischievous, she decided to shoot at the old piece of junk car that Michael had always wished to restore. They were glorified scrap, and besides, it would be a little revenge against Brian for the time he shot up something  she hadn't wished him to. It had had no value, but that was beside the point. 

Taking aim at the old car with the .357, and instructing Thranduil to protect his hearing with his fingers, she fired. His eyes widened, to both hear the noise and see the damage done from the projectile. The speed had been blinding, not even elf eyes could follow the bullet. Removing the hearing protection to hand to him, she said softly. "I hope now you can fully forgive the comment I made to you once, about the weapons of Ennor being primitive. Truly I meant no offense; but this is just a small gun, and you can see what it does. No sword or bow can stand against these." She had him don the glasses and hearing protection, and offered him the weapon. 

He took aim, and on the first shot, he held it too tightly; the recoil sheared some skin off his hand. The power was astonishing. She offered him the other weapons next, explaining that one was a military weapon of the previous century. Showing him the cartridge, she indicated that it would have far more recoil. "Hold it in very firmly against your shoulder when you fire. If you do not, it will bruise you. When he had finished, they returned the weapons to a pile on her bed; Nenni left the cleaning fluids and cloths out by way of a hint. "Brian can clean them," she chuckled. He will have fun, with all of these."

It was almost time to leave. Nenni ensured that alcohol, electronic devices and chargers, her purse, and a pair of binoculars made it in the car. She was sorely tempted to bring the telescope but...too bulky, too fussy. 

As far as she could tell, they were ready. "Where we are going, for the rest of the day, will be much cooler than  Talein, Thranduil. Do you wish to change clothing now, for your comfort? It will be as the heat of summer to late autumn, in a matter of hours." While he did so, she changed to jeans and a pair of relatively new workboots, and had an extra shirt and a hoodie with her already. With her change in height, only one pair of jeans fit her now, that she'd bought with an intent to alter drastically. Apparently, almost all of her growth had been in her legs.

Her cheeks turning slightly red at a topic they never discussed, she spoke to the room in which she believe him to be: "Thranduil, please excuse this delicate matter, it is not easy for me to say this to you. It is not always...perfectly simple...to relieve oneself here. Of bodily wastes. If you have any need, it is best to attend to that now, than later. There will be some opportunities. We express that here by stating  'I need a restroom.'  It is considered to be a very common and inoffensive subject, as long as polite language is used."  

To her horror, she realized that she and Brian often had extensive discussions on subjects of this kind, and that they rarely used anything resembling polite language. _Courage, Nenni_ , she told herself.

"I heard that," came the voice from behind her. She felt her face flush beet red. Thranduil turned her to face him, laughing openly when he saw her reddened cheeks. "Oh, Adonnenniel, he said, embracing her. "Even now, you try so hard to please your King. Let him be further away, for awhile. It dawns on me as well, I am being given three days of my life to have no responsibilities. For rules, for decorum, for anything but my relationship with you. I want nothing more than for you to be yourself, with your friend. I am here to learn, not impose."  

She held her face in her hands, but found the nerve to say: "Coming from he to whom I felt I must apologize for a thought containing a coarse word, only a day ago? I will try,  Hîr vuin, but it is not easy. You must realize, I fear to displease you, as do all who serve you."

"I know," he said softly, "And to a King, so must it be. But that King belongs to Eryn Galen, and we are here. I would still like to try." 

She inclined her head to him. "I will do my best, Thranduil, but much of this must lie with you. Believe what you will, but I am still very much under your rule. My promise to you did not specify what planet I was on. If you wish to have the King be far away, it is up to you to not command me." Inclining her head respectfully, she left him to digest that notion, with some deeply submerged smugness.

Making one last quick check of the house, she ensured everything that should be shut off...was. With the door closed behind her, she took what might very well be the last look around. Taking Thranduil to the car, she opened the door for him, and showed him how to adjust the seat, and the seatbelt. She had him open the door and close it on his own as well. Going to the driver's side, she checked the adjustments, and turned the key. Nothing appeared to happen, as this was a hybrid electric/gas vehicle. But when it was put in gear and the thrum of the engine could be felt, he gasped. It occurred to her that she should have spent a little more time preparing him for this. 

"Thranduil, get into my head, please, and take the knowledge of driving and cars from me. You are not going to be used to this, it travels faster than your elk. You may see things that startle you. From experience, I recommend closing your eyes if the sights outside become bothersome. I often used to sleep in cars, when Michael was alive to drive. It can be lulling. I have done this for many years; I drive very safely and have never caused an accident. I will be as careful as I can, with you in the car. If you are bothered, please, say something. We are leaving now to head into the world of men, and it will not be like anything you have seen before. You are safe, with me." 

He took her offered hand, and squeezed it. "I know, meleth. Lead on," he said, smiling. Slowly they left over the graveled roads of the farm.  As they finally arrived at the main road, she saw Dennis still standing where they had left him. "I guess I should do something about that," Nenni said distastefully. When they stopped at the notary, Nenni reached for her phone and dialed a friend of Dennis', quickly outlining that she had seen him acting very strangely, and maybe he could check on him? Her conscience was clear.  

"Thranduil, do you wish to come inside with me, or do you feel like you could wait here a moment?"

"I will remain here, meleth, do what you need to do." Swiftly she had her document recorded, and placed it in an envelope to give to Brian later. Nenni set up her assorted electronics before leaving, specifically the navigation software on her phone and the mobile hotspot. She showed Thranduil how to use Google, and left him to try and get used to the iPad if he wished. He asked her to show him how to look for information. "For example, if I wanted to know how to make a wood stove, how would I ask it that?" She demonstrated this for him. They departed at once. 

When she was no longer looking at what he was doing, and occupied with driving, he carefully changed "woodstove" to "piano," but not before he read about the first object as well. He was capable of recalling large volumes of detail, and he read carefully about the instrument she played until he was sure he had a grasp of it. He even found diagrams and animations of the different parts...and he had to acknowledge, it was a very complex and intricate thing. Thranduil appreciated his wife's extensive command of her own language; he could seamlessly gather information he would have had no other way to understand. _This...Internet...is amazing_ , he decided.  He next entered "weapons," and was lost for a time.

There was a full tank of fuel, so now began the drive to the San Francisco airport.   _This is beyond surreal_ , she thought. Thranduil looked up frequently from his reading, and watched in fascination as the scenery passed by, so swiftly.  

"Adonnenniel, there is something in the sky, something very large. That is no bird?" 

"That is an airplane, a device for transportation. A very large device. You will see many; Brian is flying in one of those right now, on his way to us. They can travel many times faster than this car, and are used to traverse great distances. In eight hours, in one of those, we could be past the other side of the United States as well as the ocean on its eastern border, to the lands that lie beyond. Humans invented the first flying machine a little over a hundred years ago, and in that short time, expanded the technology to barely imaginable levels. We can fly outside the planet, as well, into the empty space beyond. Humans have stood on the surface of the moon, eighty thousand leagues of Ennor distant."

Thranduil digested this. "You have flown in these airplanes?" 

"Yes, many times in big ones, though it is far less enjoyable since 9/11. Everything changed then. Follow in my mind," she said, as she showed him the event that changed the tenor of life for every citizen. "The world has too many people worse than orcs, I am sad to say. And some people as bad as Sauron himself. Because of what happened that day, everyone fears another event like it. So to fly in the big planes now is to be treated like cattle. I could not take you if I wished, because you have no documents. All of us here are recorded, stamped, tracked and verified, in order to fully participate in life. "

"That was a terrible thing, that you showed me. Many perished?" 

"Thousands."

For a time they drove on in silence. Nenni spoke. "I should tell you something of where we are going. San Francisco sits on a peninsula; it is surrounded on three sides by water. I am also taking you to see the Pacific Ocean, the greatest ocean of our world. Am I correct, that you have never seen waves of salt water crashing upon a shore?"

"I have not, meleth. The sea-longing has never come to my heart, and I had no desire to seek out the shores of our world."

"It interests me, that elves only ever seem to think of wanting the sea when they wish to depart to the west. Here, we seek out the sea for both its violence and its tranquility, its bounty and its beauty. It is a part of my heart, and I will miss it. To hear the ocean on the shore is to hear the steady heartbeat of this world." 

"I have not considered the sea, in this way. My heart has ever been with the forest, for as long as I can remember."

"I know, and I love you for it. I find joy in  all natural places, and I greatly look forward to learning more of Eryn Galen, from you and for myself. I already begin to think of it as mine," she said softly.

"San Francisco has existed for about two hundred years of men. All cities are great, and ugly. The best and worst of humanity is in them. I was born in the city across from San Francisco; we will pass through it on our way. For almost all of my life, I have always lived within reach of this place. I am proud of it; the people are tolerant of those who are different, and it wears many faces. A great earthquake happened here, a hundred years ago. The city was destroyed by the quaking, and the fire that followed. My grandmother was a little girl, when it happened, living there. They rebuilt it, to all that you will see today.

I am going to do my best to take you to some of the forests here. The hard part is deciding which ones. California holds some of the rarest and greatest forest lands on Earth. I would have you see some of them, ere we must depart. Much that once was is gone, but some has been saved; so that as long as there are people to enjoy them, there will be something to look upon."

Thranduil's eyes lit up, in the corner of her vision. She smiled. "Tell me of these forests, Adonnenniel, please?"

"Certainly. I have an idea, give me a moment." She pulled off the highway, and reaching over, took out a paper map of California, folding it for him. Using a pencil, she circled several forests for him, placed an X across San Francisco, and then resumed driving. "California is  home to the tallest tree in the world, the largest tree in the world, and the oldest tree in the world; though none of them are in the same place. I showed you the oldest ones in my mind once, the Ancient Bristlecone Pines. The tallest are the Redwoods, and the largest are the Giant Sequoia. Though," she chuckled, "perhaps the Bristlecones would not hold so much interest for you. After all, you are older than the oldest of them. But you can look on your map, and see how many forests there are."

Thranduil was now lost to the map, she observed with a grin. 

"Would it bother you, Thranduil, if I sing while we drive? It is long habit for me, and helps me not mind it so much."

"Please do," he said, not looking up. She turned on the stereo, selecting a lower volume than usual. Mozart's Requiem filled her ears, like a lost friend. Effortlessly she began to sing along, as she'd done for long years. The emotion of this piece, and its perfect expression of the dread of mortality, had always resonated with her. _How odd to be singing this once again, with no such concerns_ , she thought. Gratitude filled her, for the change in her fate. She had already determined, she would always do what she could to ease the burdens of those on a different path. How could she choose otherwise? Happily she drove along, lost in her music. 

Thranduil had stopped looking at the map, though he pretended to still be absorbed in it. For the first time he was fully hearing her doing what she loved; singing in these intricate four part harmonies, with complex instrumentation behind it. Every note and word in a language she did not fluently know was memorized, and through her he understood what she sang. The pathos was...incredible. The entire composition was a plea for deliverance from the mortality of the Edain. _For how many years did I look down on them as though they were ants, heedless of what I have been given, as one of the Eldar?_ His duty was first to his own people, but he would have to do better than he had.

"I am proud of you, Thranduil," she said, as she broke off her song. "It is a generosity of spirit, that you feel."

"And so now I understand what it is to be lost in thought and realize I am not alone," he said, chagrined.

 She laughed. "I do look in on you as often as you might think. And though you gave me permission, I would always respect your wishes if you ever asked me to keep out."

"I would do the same for you, Adonnenniel," he said.

She shook her head. "No. You must not. If I am ever reduced to a place where I ask you to keep out, that is when more than ever I would need you to look in. Do not ever forget this conversation, should I ever ask you to do so."

Taken aback, he looked at her, bewildered. 

"Let me explain, beloved. I know myself passably well. A request like that, from me, could only come out of a place of profound hurt, anger, or both. If such were the case, I would need you more than ever. I am bound to you for all eternity. Should anything ever come between us, repairing the breach, not widening it, is what would be wisest. If you were to ask me to stay out, it would not be for that reason. It is not the same. We are not the same. Do you understand?"

"Now that you clarify, yes."

"There is something I would ask you now, while we are still alone. It is about Brian. His body is injured. I doubt he would ever say a word about it, in front of you. He is in pain, all the time, it is ever a question of how much. He..." 

"You wish to know if I would heal him, meleth? The answer is Yes. I would withhold nothing, from one who has done you so much good." 

She was caught in the surprise of realizing just how obvious her desire had been, to him. "Thank you, Thranduil. It means a great deal to me, that you would consent. I am deeply in your debt. Again." She smiled. _That scorecard wasn't worth keeping._

Soon they were passing through Berkeley and Oakland. "This is the place of my birth. At one time, it had many oak trees. If you can find one now, your eyes are better than mine." She pointed out the vast cargo docks. "We are about to drive onto a great bridge, over the water. And see over there?" as she gestured to the Golden Gate. "People come from the entire world to see that bridge. It is famous, a symbol both of San Francisco and California."

Thranduil could not believe his eyes. The might of the bridges exceeded any construct in all of his world. Buildings stood before him, taller than the tower of Ecthelion in Gondor. And not just one, but many. There were roads and cars and...things larger than cars, great cargo ships, and a visual tangle of manmade objects so dense that they formed a blur in his mind. "Welcome to San Francisco, Elvenking," she said softly. Continuing down the highway, the soon approached the airport. He saw and heard the roar of the great planes as they departed. They were large beyond his imagining. "We are a little early; the best thing to do is park and wait for him inside. He usually travels most efficiently, but he may have extra items on account of my bizarre requests to him. We can help carry anything." Without difficulty, they found a space in short term parking. 

"There is one thing, Thranduil....actually, two things. The first is, while the likelihood is terribly low, my purse, that I will carry today? There are thieves in this world, and should one of them successfully steal this purse from me, our time here would become enormously diminished and complicated. You have my endorsement to stop anyone who tries. I guess since we cannot be killed, it is safe enough. I don't care whose brains you turn to mush, if the need arises. The other thing is, I cannot speak your name loudly in a public space. It is unique in  all the world, and too many people read the same books I did. Your appearance is extremely striking and possibly recognizable, actually...we don't want a scene. I just want you to understand why, if some very contorted sentences come out."

He nodded, amused.

"It isn't like most people here don't pronounce it wrong, anyway. Everyone adds a syllable to your name, and no one rolls the r."

"What do you mean, meleth?"

"They say THRAN doo ill. Not THRrrrAND weel, like it ought to be."

"I suppose you must let it pass, my Queen."

Nenni laughed. "I suppose."

As they walked, she swiftly texted Brian that they were there, and would meet him at the baggage claim. In a minute she saw the reply that he was disembarking. _He will be here in a few more minutes. And he has no checked baggage, so we don't have to wait here. It is so nice that flights are mostly on time, these days. It used to be chaos, before computers and smartphones._

Thranduil noticed that nearly everyone around him was mesmerized by a similar device. Most were paying no attention to anything but the little glassy...smartphones...they held in their hands.

_They have changed civilization in a very short time. Twenty years ago, they did not exist. Now, they are everywhere. Even the poorest manage to find a way to own one. Sadly, for many, the devices command their attention so much that they forget those who matter most. I thought I would miss mine, once I was taken. I found I could care less. Though, here, they do play a role. I can communicate with those I care about, all over the world, all the time. That part was appreciated. As was the constant access to information. Honestly, they are almost a requirement for living in this society._

 Thranduil saw for the first time the variety in appearance of Edain. The different skin colors, hair colors, facial features, and yet they were all human. He was mesmerized by the very dark skin of some, so different than his own. It was not elvish beauty, but there was in interest and an appeal, in so much diversity.

_It is because our ancestors came from so many different places around the globe. You see the appearance of those whose genetic origins, parental origins, are from the many continents of earth._

Nenni texted Brian a few more things. Namely, that with apologies, she would not let Thranduil out of her grasp for even a moment here, not to say his name above a whisper in public, and that she would explain later. And that she'd brought tequila.

 _There are more people in this airport than in my entire Realm, aren't there?_ he asked.

_That is a very safe guess. Something like fifty million people a year move through here, not including the workers. It is really a marvel, when you think about it, that anything goes right._

_Ah, finally. There he is! Keep me from crying again, I beg you. Oh, and, he will probably hug you._

She beamed to see her friend, grateful for the firm grip her husband had on her emotions. That grip kept the pain from settling in, when she thought about this being the last time any such greeting would ever happen. Finally they were together, and she did release Thranduil long enough to embrace Brian. She laughed when Brian could not so easily lift her off her feet any longer. She was almost as tall as he was, now. 

"Brian, this is my husband." 

Brian looked up into the ethereal face and eyes that were even more piercing than over the computer screen. He was uncertain what to do, beginning to reach his hand out. Then something happened which Nenni did not expect. Not in a hundred years. Thranduil opened his arms to Brian and embraced him warmly, pulling him in, and releasing him at just the right time. Smiling broadly, he intoned in his silken baritone, "it is a great pleasure to meet you, Brian. Shall we?" he gestured outward, scooping up the heavy bag he carried before Brian knew what had happened. 

_Your approval rating just went off the charts, husband._

_I know_ , Thranduil smirked, as he looked down at her with his eyes twinkling.

Nenni chattered away with Brian, asking how the flight was, how he'd managed to arrange the visit, and other small conversation. Finally with everything settled into the car, she felt like she could breathe for a moment. 

"Brian, I cannot say how much I appreciate that you could do this for...all of us. My gratitude is bottomless. Before we launch out of here, is anyone hungry? I think we all know that we don't want to be relying on my appetite to schedule meals. That and, if we are hungry, it has to be clam chowder. Thranduil has never had anything like it."

Two male voices said "I'm hungry" more or less in synchronization, which everyone found amusing. "OK. Get me to a Boudin's where we have a chance at parking, and we're out of here." 

"You must have about a million questions, Brian. Fire away. In between navigating, of course."

Brian smirked. "Well, yeah. For starters, you want to tell me how three days ago you were a farmer and now you're an elf queen? I missed that whole transition."

"Sure," Nenni said. "I'm going to give the fast version of what could have us talking until midnight. If Thranduil wants to add in, he may." Ever respectful, Nenni declined to mention Thranduil's fall from a path of light, and his repentance. She told only of how he had lost her in the briefest manner, and why she was restored to him. 

"Don't take this the wrong way but you...both of you...seem so....normal. I am not sure what I expect a King and Queen to be like, but I'm pretty sure this isn't it."

Nenni laughed. "I'll be honest, things are different at home. We are making this up as we go along. I guess you could say that we have agreed this is sort of an Elven Holiday. At home,  there is a fair amount of formality, and more deference. I guess you could say we have two relationships; spouses, and a King and his subject."

"Nenni, I can't wrap my head around you being formal or deferential. I've heard you tell everything that moves to fuck off, and you want me to believe that you have manners and just obey him without question?" he asked incredulously.  

"Yeah, well there are a few more details to that. Manners are expected. I do obey him without question, because I gave him my solemn word that I would.  He is a powerful King, Brian; everyone behaves toward him in the same way."

"And you gave him your word because....why?" Brian asked, still incredulous. 

Thranduil chuckled. "You spoke truly, Adonnenniel. Your friend has a keen mind for analysis and perception. Permit me to rescue my wife from the trap you are setting for her, Brian. To your credit, she is almost ensnared. Adonnenniel gave me her word because she had no real choice in the matter. You must understand, that our ways are not your ways, here. She was brought to me, having been found injured in my forest. Trespassing, no matter the intention, into my Realm carries a penalty of death. We live in dark times, and the safety of my people depends on my vigilance. She asked me to spare her life. To gain this, she had to agree to become subject to me. I have since learned of the position this put her in, by the standards of your world. But her promise was nonetheless given, and cannot be undone. My authority is absolute, and all under me are sworn to the same conditions. But she is also my wife, and I love her dearly."

Nenni chimed in. "I have more to add to that, but not here. When we can all be somewhere private, away from any other eyes, I will tell you the rest. I know it is strange to hear, Brian. It is difficult to explain why it does not bother me in the least. He does not make my obligations to him a burden. He has cared for me to a degree you cannot imagine, and given me the freedom to use what talents I have. I have been very happy."

Brian attempted to digest this. "I'll let this try and settle for awhile, fair enough. But I'm still missing something here."

"Smart boy. Yes, you are, and I promise before the day is out, you'll get your puzzle piece. Now surely can find another question."

"You can't blame me, Nenni. Nothing personal, but after Dennis...I have a right to worry about who you're involved with. Nothing personal, King Thranduil."

"No offense taken. I met this...Dennis...this morning. I cannot fault you for your caution."

"You WHAT? Spill, both of you."

Nenni related the story of their unwanted visit with Dennis, and that he was left...unwell...elsewhere. 

Brian's eyes narrowed. "Unwell? Did someone give that guy the pounding he deserves, finally?"

"No...not exactly. Alright. This isn't going to be avoidable, so, let's get it out into the open. Some elves have certain gifts. You might choose to call them mental abilities, instead. And before you freak out and want to run screaming from the car, what I am about to tell you would not be used on you without your explicit permission, and certainly never be used against you. Elves can read minds. In our world, there is a strict prohibition. To enter the mind of another without express consent is akin to...rape. It just isn't done. Though it is unusual, we have given each other that consent. We converse freely without words. Thranduil is...extremely powerful in his gifts. Essentially, Dennis no longer even knows his own name. After he attacked me, Thranduil erased all his memories. And, I cannot say I am sorry."

"Get out of here. OK, Nenni, what am I thinking?"

"You are certain?" Nenni asked. "You wish me to look in on you?"

"Yes I do, I give you my full permission, because frankly it is the only way I'm going to be able to believe this. Now what am I thinking?"

"Green"

"And now?"

"Aquariums"

"Now?"

"What you wanted to do with the hottie you saw in the parking lot this morning, if the world were perfect."

"Holy shit, Nenni. You're not joking."

"No. You will find I don't joke about things like this...too much of it is too serious. And so you know, I will not do that again without future explicit consent."

Thranduil was shaking with laughter in the passenger seat. "I see Hîr vuin is enjoying this immensely," Nenni chuckled. "He has never had a day free from responsibilities in longer than we can count. I think he deserves to be amused."

"What is 'Hîr vuin'?" Brian asked.

"We speak another language, at home, Sindarin, the language of our elvish people. That means, 'my Lord', and is something I often call him because...he is. Just pretend you are stuck in a film about the British monarchy circa seventeen hundred and whatever, and so much will make better sense."

"So how is it he knows English?"

"Because I know English. He knows every language that I know, and vice versa."

Finally they pulled up to the restaurant, and were granted the miracle of an easy parking place. Nenni was grateful, because once again the discussion was tipping dangerously close to something she wanted to avoid for just a little while longer. There wasn't even a line for the food. 

"Is everyone OK with the soup, any salads? Greens?" she clarified. Seeing two blank stares for entirely different reasons, she ordered three sourdough bowls and water all around, paid, and they found a table. The food arrived swiftly. 

Nenni explained, "you are supposed to attempt to eat the bread with the soup in some sort of balance. The soup is made from creatures that live in the sea that are considered a delicacy. Clams. The bread is unique to this city; it has a special tanginess to it which is why it is called sour dough."

Thranduil watched her tear off a piece of bread, and dip it in the soup before eating it, and imitated. He placed it in his mouth, and chewed. "This is wonderful", he said, regarding the strange looking thing in front of him. "Try the crust too," she said, "that part is really good." 

Brian watched the tall elf in fascination, as every passing minute drove in more and more that this was unavoidably real...and that he was out of his depth by miles. He did not mean to stare, but while he had always thought Nenni lovely (whereas now she was absolutely beautiful), the being in front of him was on another level entirely. He felt his eyes drawn in by a physical perfection he could not resolve, and had to tear away his eyes with effort. 

"It's OK Brian, I still deal with it, and I'm married to him. Trust me, I understand."

Thranduil looked up, his dazzlingly blue eyes distracted from the soup. "You two behave yourselves," he said in that unreadable expression and tone of voice that left the listener without any ability to perceive his mood, or whether what had been spoken was a rebuke.

Brian felt his cheeks redden, and went back to his soup. He caught a look from Nenni that seemed to say, _perhaps you understand now, why I do as he asks. It is difficult to consider doing otherwise._ Suddenly, a few things made more sense. He did not fear the elf, but...to say that he had a commanding presence and unassailable dignity would be putting it mildly.

Brian said respectfully, "Please accept my apology for staring. I did not mean to be rude." 

Thranduil looked up, surprised to hear this. His expression softened to one that was even more compelling than a moment ago.  "Apology accepted. I am not unaware of the...effect...I have on others. But I did not choose this appearance, it was given me. You may look on, if that is your wish. You have an honest heart." With that, Thranduil returned to his soup. 

Brian simply said "Thank you."

"You are welcome."

They all finished their meal in silence. Nenni continued to be awed at Thranduil's power to affect those around him. It was difficult to reduce Brian to silence, and he'd managed it in under an hour, with a simple combination of authority, gentleness, and blazing candor.

Soon they were back in the car. "There is great park, with a beautiful place dedicated to exquisite flowers here, Thranduil. May we take you there? Or perhaps you would like to see the tall buildings, or some of the places unique to this city? Ultimately we will end up at the western shore, at the ocean. This is about you; we both have long known this place and never tire of it."

Thranduil considered. "I should like to see all of it. All of this is completely new to me, and fascinating."

Nenni thought. "OK, I'll make an executive decision. First, Fort Point. I want Thranduil to see the armaments there, however briefly. Then Golden Gate Park. If we are fortunate, we can get the hour or less we need to see the orchids at the Conservatory of Flowers. Then the beach, then the city streets as day moves to night. Everyone should see the city lights at least once. We can get food in there somewhere, and then we leave north via the Golden Gate Bridge."

She continued. "Brian, I want to show him as much of the beauty here as I can. He loves forests best, and I had a mind to end up at the Humboldt Redwoods, late tonight. That puts us close to the Lost Coast, but also not an impossible distance from Mount Lassen.  I also have half a mind to cut over to the Sierras...but we have 60 hours that started at just after 6am this morning. Thranduil doesn't need sleep, and so of course he doesn't have a driver's license.  I need less sleep than I used to, but still have to have some. Think on those ideas, while we drive."

They navigated the streets in what had to be record time, soon arriving at the quaint brick relic of a bygone time. This was an old defensive fortification that never saw combat, they explained to him. As the elf raised his eyes, he was mesmerized not so much by the sturdily built Fort as the Golden Gate Bridge that towered above it. It was massive and impressive beyond anything he had yet seen. As they entered, Nenni directed them first to the upper stories of the Fort, but with an ulterior motive. The place was largely deserted; it was a weekday of no significant importance, and few were to be seen anywhere. As they walked through the corridors, Brian said to her "Nenni, I'm up for the camping, but I'm not sure my neck and shoulders can survive sleeping like that. It hasn't been good, lately." She gestured for him to sit on one of the old carriage supports for the cannons.

 Speaking softly,  Nenni said. "Then it is time to tell you the other part of this equation.  Thranduil mentioned that when I arrived in Middle Earth, I was injured. He wasn't specific enough. I was dying. His gifts do not stop at telepathy. He can heal. He saved my life, and in the course of the past four months, he has repaired every defect of my mind and body. I have had some misadventures, and he has healed me of crippling injuries from those as well. It is a debt I can never repay. If you will allow it, he will do the same for you. There is no pain. Would you accept this?"

Thranduil watched Brian intently, as his wife spoke.  His expression began with astonishment and ended with a plea in his eyes, as he looked at the Elvenking. 

Brian swallowed. "Yes, I would." Thranduil approached him and sat down. Brian felt himself lifted and repositioned slightly, as though he weighed as much as a coffee cup. 

"Look into my eyes, Brian. Remain still, and do not speak. I am going to examine you, with my mind. I will not read your thoughts; you will feel no pain. Blink as little as you are able." The instructions were soft and kind, but the authority was absolute. If he had wished to stare into the elf's otherworldly blue eyes, he had his opportunity at last. He felt Thranduil's hand, at the side of his face. Nenni looked on, her heart filled with gladness, but she also kept an eye out. If any came near, she was determined to plant the thought that it was best to turn away. 

After some minutes, Thranduil withdrew his gaze. "What is damaged within you is not difficult to repair. I will care for this now. You will see light. Do not be alarmed, it is the way of our healing. Be still, and do not speak." Thranduil  gently grasped the man's shoulders, drawing him in close. The elf began to utter words he did not understand. Sensations of pleasant warmth flared in different places of his body, but nothing more. As he looked on, he was astonished to see the King's face bathed in light; he seemed to glow from within. He knew that he was seeing the greatest beauty he would ever be privileged to behold. The pain that had been constant melted away,  leaving behind only health and vitality. Soon enough, the work was completed, and Thranduil withdrew his hands, smiling. "Better?" he asked.

Brian stood up, moving joints and muscles freely that had only given years of misery. Other things he could not pinpoint, exactly, felt different as well. He had not felt this kind of ...wellness... since he was a much, much younger man. He returned to his seat, looking at the elf. "I can only thank you, with all my heart,  Thranduil, for what you have just done for me. I can never repay you."

"You are welcome, Brian. I regret that your body will still age, still be susceptible to new difficulties and new injury. But you will fare better now, than otherwise. You paid me for this long ago, with every moment in which you made Adonnenniel's life here a happier one." 

"Thank you, Thranduil," Nenni said, leaning down to kiss him. She was filled with gratitude toward him. Turning to Brian, she said quietly, "Perhaps you understand more fully, now, why it is no burden to promise to obey him. I have been more than repaid, for whatever small freedoms I have agreed to set aside." Pausing, she then continued, "Come. We have cannons to look at, then we should be on our way."

Returning to the lower level, she led Thranduil to the large guns, as well as the ammunition. Nenni made especially sure to show him the Dahlgren/Rodman cannons, which had added safety in their design. Brian's eyes widened, when Thranduil lifted one of the very large cannonballs, with no discernible effort, from the brass monkey on the ground. _Look at all these, carefully. The Dwarves can make these. They are powerful in battle, and within the reach of the technology of Ennor...and you should probably replace the cannonball, no Edain could lift one of those without great struggle._

Looking up sheepishly, Thranduil smiled. Nenni caught Brian's eye, and grinned. "He is strong."

Their time in Golden Gate park was joyous. Thranduil could never have imagined the delicacy and colors of these strange flowers.

 Nenni and Brian sat together on a bench, watching his fascination with each and every orchid from a short distance. "Are there other things you can do, Nenni, just as he can heal? Until the day I die, I will never forget that."

"Makes you wonder about all the Jesus stories, doesn't it?" she said. "If he were here permanently, in no time flat he could have wealth and power beyond measure, just on account of what he can do. Hell, he'd _be_ Jesus. Trust me, I've had a lot to process in the last four months, and I'm still struggling with some of it. But to answer your question, yes, I have a gift as well. Gifts are rare, among even elves. I have come to learn that we are a spirit, a fëa; and a body, or hroa. My fëa is apparently the same age as his, though I do not have these memories except from him. We were wed thousands of years ago, and have been separated all that time. My guess is, my gift is because the essence of me is very old. I do not know for sure."

"Yes but what _is_ it?" Brian said, exasperated, poking her in the ribs. "Elf or not, you still ramble all over the place, Nenni." 

She laughed. "Well, the human part is slow to wear off. But to answer your question..." verifying that they were alone, she turned to a nearby bank of orchids not yet blooming, and pointed at them. "Watch." 

Brain's mouth opened in astonishment as they opened and bloomed in front of his eyes. 

"I can control all plant life, causing it to grow, or die, or change shape. At home I am using it to produce food for our Realm, though I've found it has other uses. The day we reunited in marriage, Thranduil gave me a garden most of the size of my farm. And as you might suspect, I turned it into one. A farm, that is," she smiled.

"OK I've gotta ask, since we might not have much private time. Marriage? You and he....?"

"Yes. Frequently."

"And?"

"I can't tell you, lest the envy ruin the rest of your days on earth, except to say that he is ten thousand kinds of amazing," she smiled. "And out of regard for his privacy, I cannot say more, without his consent. Besides, I should warn you. His hearing is very, very good." Nenni smiled up at Brian, as a masculine chuckle floated over from across the pond filled with water lilies. "Perhaps he will tell you himself. He is not shy, just...proper, dignified. I have no privacy from him anyway, he can hear my thoughts as he chooses. And he usually does choose."

Brian reflected. "How can you stand it? To not even have your thoughts to yourself? I don't think I could do that, for anyone, ever."

"To be honest, that I can stand it, surprises me too. There are very few times it has felt like any kind of a detraction. That we maintain this connection has saved me from...considerable trouble... at least once. Without it, he could not have found a way to heal my mind, as he has done. I have no wish to keep anything from him. We will spend our unending lives together, working for the good of others; I would not change anything. I can read his thoughts if I choose, as well. We grow closer, every day. I believe we were sent here, to grow closer still. And how, speaking of closeness, are things going with Ina?"

Brian smirked. "Same old. I love her very much but...it doesn't seem like it is ever going to happen, that I have everything I really want."

She squeezed his hand in sympathy. "It is...difficult. But like me, I also know you have the sense to have gratitude for what is right more than what is wrong. Who knows, with everything from me falling into your lap, the pressure on you two to work so hard may ease off. It can be amazing, what happens when those kinds of burdens are lifted. She may yet surprise you. I'm finding," Nenni said, "that what one really wants can change dramatically, with a change in circumstances."

"Oh? Do tell."

Nenni looked at him, uncertain. But then, taking a deep breath, she said it. "Children."

The expected tease didn't come. Brian looked at her, kindly and seriously. "I always told you, you would have made a good mother, Nenni. Are you...?"

"No.  Things aren't right, yet. Nor will they be for awhile. But the fact that I'm even considering it, desiring it; I don't have to explain it to you. Right now all I can say for sure is...I know I will bear his child, someday. And for the first time ever, I know it would be without hesitation. I was meant for him, and he for me." She laughed softly. "It sounds like someone kidnapped me and switched me out for an alien, doesn't it?" 

"Yeah. And no. Whatever else happens, I believe now...you will be OK, with him. I don't pretend to know him, but I can see he is...extraordinary."

She sighed. "He is, at that. And I think now, he needs to see dahlias. Come on, you, let's be floral." Smiling, she offered him her hand as she rose up. He took it, and she hauled him onto his feet as though he weighed little. 

"Are you as strong as he is?" Brian asked, grinning. 

"No, not by miles. He is the greatest warrior in Middle Earth...I will never have his physical power. I'm just lucky to have gained some of his skills."

"How so?" he asked, curious.

"Most weapons, but especially swords. You should see me slice a tomato now," she joked, her eyes twinkling at him. Laughing, they went to retrieve Thranduil, to take him to the next set of flowers.

"Do you have favorites, Thranduil?" Nenni asked, kindly. 

"I cannot say, meleth. They are all exquisite, and all so unusual to my eyes. Thank you, for showing them to me." 

As they departed, they stopped by the dahlia garden. Here too, Thranduil was surprised at the color and variety. But as he looked, Nenni began to notice and uncomfortable number of people openly staring at them. _We should leave here, Thranduil. I am sorry. We are attracting attention. It might be best if you do not look up; I will lead you away._

Brian saw the same, and from behind them, Nenni heard him say "Oh my God! Look!" as he pointed down at nothing in particular. It worked. Phone cameras that were about to be aimed at herself and Thranduil were suddenly diverted, allowing them to quietly slip away. He rejoined them momentarily. Nenni chuckled. "Brian, you're hired. That was a great save."

"I do what I can," he said, grinning happily.  It was an easy drive to Ocean Beach, which was nearly deserted. Soon enough, those leaving work might arrive, but for now, it was only the occasional jogger and dog. Nenni took Thranduil's hand, bringing him to the sand some distance from the surf, and had him sit down. The tide was coming in, and  a great cargo vessel moved into their view. "What is that?" Thranduil asked, awed.

"It is an oceangoing vessel, used to transport goods. Every one of the...boxes...you see on top of the ship are filled with every imaginable thing, from across the world. That ship is going to travel under the Golden Gate Bridge, to unload all those containers somewhere inside the Bay. They are...huge. The ship I sailed on is not the size of but a few of those...boxes. And the amazing part is, that colossus is operated by perhaps a dozen people." She had already removed her own shoes, and now unlaced his as well, taking them off, keeping his socks neatly out of the sand. After rolling up his jeans for him to mid calf, she stood and held out her hand to him.

"Come, Thranduil. You cannot come to the shore and not stand in the water."  She led him to where the water would cover his feet, at the next wave, seeing some trepidation on his face. "Trust me, you will come to no harm. The water will feel cold, but not unbearably so." His eyes grew wide in wonder, at the surge of the liquid around his feet. "A little further," she said, leading him forward. At the next wave, he had to brace himself, a little at the powerful pull of the water around his calves. 

He moved to face her, smiling. "It is very strong, is it not? I would not have imagined." 

But she was not looking at him, he saw. Taking his hand, she said "Quickly. Run," pulling him forcefully with her as she scurried off. He sprinted with her, not understanding, as he heard a crash behind him. Nenni stopped, and now turned back. 

Thranduil saw that where they had been, was now surging with three feet of receding water. He looked at her, confused. "What just happened?"

"The moon far above us exerts pull on the waters of earth, creating a tidal flow. Right now, the tide is coming in; the volume of water coming to the shore is rising. That was an unusually strong wave, and had we not moved, we would possibly have been carried out to sea. People drown, from such as this, though you and I would simply have been very wet and unhappy."

"How did you know?" 

"I didn't, but I never stopped watching. There is a saying, 'Never turn your back on the ocean.'  It is my job to know these things, here. I would be a poor sailor indeed if I had not learned respect for the power of the sea by now."

Thranduil scooped her up into his arms, as he so often did at home. He walked with her, back to the surf, as she twined her fingers in his silken hair. "I would not have sought this out, Thranduil, but it makes my heart glad, that we can share these things here. Especially what good there is, in this world. These are the things that sustained me."

While they talked, Brian quietly photographed them. He doubted he would ever share these with anyone else, even Ina. But for himself, he wanted something to remember them by. Returning his phone to his pocket, he stretched back on the sand, appreciating once more his restored body. Closing his eyes, he listened to the sound of the surf and the cries of the gulls.

They returned to him, seating themselves on either side. "Did you kids have fun?" he intoned, not opening his eyes. Thranduil found this genuinely funny, and laughed heartily. In over six thousand years no one had ever implied that he was young. But today, he felt young. Everything was new once again, for a time. 

As they returned to the car, Brian suggested, "Why don't you let me drive my new car for awhile? I know my way around downtown as well as you, Nenni, and I know you hate driving."

"Deal" she said, smiling, tossing him the spare set of keys. She moved around to where Thranduil sat, to brush every bit of sand from his feet and replace his footwear. "Civic Center, TransAmerica Pyramid, Coit Tower, Chinatown, Nob Hill? What do you think? And we'd better get a long term plan. If we are going to go to the Redwoods, that's a little over a four hour drive after we get out of here. We'd best factor in food. Thranduil is less fond of cheese or pasta than I am, I've learned."

"Nenni, it's your last time on earth. What are you thinking? We're going to Mitchell's."

"Brian, you want to feed the Elvenking ice cream for dinner?"

"Yes, I do. And I won't hear anything more about it."

Nenni's eyebrows raised. "Alrighty then. We will hope he likes it," she laughed. "But I have to warn you, he thought a cupcake was too sweet. Wait. Do I have that right, Thranduil?"

"I believe my exact observation was that the cupcake was too...much. Too rich."

"Do you like chocolate, Thranduil?" asked Brian. 

"I do not know, Brian, I have not had...whatever it is."

"Adonnenniel Smith, you mean to tell me you have been back on earth for an entire day and not gotten into chocolate? Are you ill?" Brian was aghast.

"Well, yes," she said sheepishly. "They don't really have sweets in the Realm like they do here and...I've sort of stopped thinking about what I can't have. I forgot."

Brian unlocked the car, muttering "This is worse than I thought."

Soon they were at the famous creamery. Brian marched in and ordered six very different scoops in three cups, so as to let Thranduil try as many flavors as possible. Somehow, there has been no line, which was something unheard of. Returning to the car with his prizes, he intoned: "Ube, avocado, chocolate/peanut butter, French vanilla, strawberry, mint chip. Thranduil, you first," he said, brandishing a spoon. "Try a little of each one, and tell us what you think." 

Nenni found the play of emotions across her husband's face when confronted with six flavors of ice cream to be one of the sweetest things she had ever seen. It was as watching an innocent child try something for the first time; her own private installment of Cute Overload. Brian wasn't even the one in love with him, and she could tell he wasn't far behind. They looked at each other, wordlessly seeing that the other felt the same, smiling. 

After careful consideration,  Thranduil announced: "Strawberry, ube, avocado, mint chip, vanilla, chocolate/ peanut butter." More spoons came out to quickly redistribute the scoops. Brian didn't even ask, and gave Nenni the chocolate/peanut butter and vanilla, keeping the avocado and mint chip for himself.

Brain said to her "Did you guess?" 

Nenni said "Only half. I bet ube and vanilla. The strawberry caught me totally off guard." 

Thranduil was touched, to find that Nenni's close friend so genuinely seemed to like him. He didn't need to invade the man's thoughts to realize that he was sincerely cared for, and that it would have been the same regardless of the gift he'd given. The idea that these people, who had so little to offer, could be so generous with their care and concern, was not something that would have occurred to him. Yet had he not seen this already in Adonnenniel, who freely gave herself in marriage to him? He had wondered how anyone could be so good, coming from the world of the Edain. And yet, here was another. And where there were two, there were assuredly more. It began to sink in that immortality did not confer goodness. He had long confused the span of years with worth. More than ever, he saw how wrong this had been.

"Well," Nenni said, "do we want real food, or are we calling it good? On one hand, I'm not hungry right now, but it will be late when we get north, and I don't have anything fancier than dried foods for tomorrow.  But there are some places around the forest. On the other hand, we are now at the hours for traffic. Anything we do will take time, and lots of it, and going somewhere for a meal might be better than smelling exhaust fumes. Some part of me says, Thranduil should experience Chinese food. Or we could plan on just raiding a grocery store, once we leave the City, for food? Thoughts?"

Thranduil simply opined, "I would like more to eat." 

Brian seconded. "Chinese works, and it would be fun. I'd hate for Thranduil to think our culture amounted to only clam chowder and ice cream."  

Nenni checked her phone. "Yelp! gives a place on Grant Avenue with completely decent reviews. Let's head that way, and just ride the wave. Agreed?" 

Thranduil was not entirely certain to what he was agreeing, but it seemed like the thing to do, so he nodded. Finishing their ice cream, they departed from Noe Valley for Chinatown. 

Leaning forward from her perch in the back seat, wrapping her hands around his shoulders, Nenni said, "Thranduil, I have been remiss. I watch what you eat at every meal, but I have never asked you about what foods you like the most. Would you tell me? All I really understand is that pasta and cheese are not high on your list of preferences, that you like wine very much, and....and." 

 

Brian laughed. "You've been married to him for...how many months, and you don't know what to cook for him? This I have to hear." Nenni flushed pink. "That's not fair, Brian! You don't understand, he is _King_ , for crying in the mud. We live in a Palace. A huge staff of what amounts to professional cooks and bakers prepares everything, for us and the others who live there. The closest I've come to cooking since the day I left is holding my own fork. We have a steward, who brings us meals if we eat in our chambers. The only food I can 'prepare' is what I grow and eat out of my garden. Which amounts to, fresh produce."

"Oh. Really? I hadn't thought about that. I suppose you wear gowns and jewels too?" he chuckled. 

"Well, yes, I do. Thranduil has extremely refined tastes in clothing, and...let's just say you wouldn't recognize me. You know I'm a hopeless slob that would dress in rags, given the choice. He has had so many beautiful things made for me, it is hard to know where to start."

"Get out. Seriously?" 

Thranduil couldn't stand it any longer. "Brian, you will forgive me if I come to Adonnenniel's defense. With your permission, I can show you in your mind how she is attired at home? I will not read your thoughts in doing so."

"Yes please, King Thranduil. This I have to see." 

"Wait" Nenni broke in. Is this safe to do while he is driving? I'd hate for his vision to fill with images that will keep him from noticing stopped cars..."

Both males considered her words. "Perhaps it is safest, if I wait until we have arrived at a destination," Thranduil assented. 

"The back seat thanks you all," Nenni said acerbically. 

They drove through the Castro district, whereupon the Elvenking saw some puzzling sights. "Those men, that are attired in...what...what am I seeing?" he asked. 

Nenni chuckled. "If you will permit the discussion, I mentioned to you once that there were many...intimate proclivities, among humans. These are men who are attracted to other men. There are also women who desire women. They have their own culture, and many of them find a home in San Francisco because of its spirit of  tolerance for all ways of wishing to live. I can find no equivalent in Ennor; but here, I am proud to call such people my friends, and I have many.  Many Edain feel it is right to treat those who are different... badly. I cannot agree, and those who feel as such are not those I chose as friends." 

Brian immediately chimed in, "I can hardly wait to talk more about this topic, by the campfire." 

Nenni laughed. "So I imagined."

They passed the Civic Center, indicating to Thranduil City Hall, the Opera House, the Symphony Hall. With the iPad she was able to show him what the insides of the places looked like, saving them precious time.

Once again blessed with easy parking, they found a slot not far from their destination. "OK," said Brian, "let's see it. Gowns, jewels, and all." Thranduil reached across the seat, and held his hand softly to Brian's head. Not long after, his eyes grew wide. "Nenni....I...those are...you are beautiful, girlfriend. Why didn't you mention all this fancy stuff sooner?" 

 Thranduil laughed. "Because Adonnenniel is modest to the point of exasperation, that is why." 

Nenni turned pink, trapped between the two of them. "Yeah...what he said. There is no easy way to talk about that here, Brian." In her best Monty Python voice, she said "Oh, by the way, my dear friend, I wear the equivalent of the crown jewels of England at all my dinner parties, didn't you know?" She sighed. "I did tell you that Thranduil is very kind to me. I just didn't go into specifics." 

Leaning over to Brian, Thranduil whispered loudly, "She says that, but she liked her new swords better than the jewelry, I'm sure of it." 

 Brian nodded. "She's like that, you know."

"Now that's not fair!" Nenni said, her face going completely red. "I never said that, I mean, yes that is probably strictly true, but I never said that! I have liked everything you've ever given me!" 

Thranduil leaned over and gave Brian a very expressive look, to indicate that the back seat was merely confirming his accusations. Brian offered Thranduil a fist bump, which the King returned.

"I did not just see that", Nenni said, whispering. 

In chorus, the two males said, "Yes, you did." They both froze, looking at each other, and then burst into laughter at her expense. 

As she buried her face in her hands, she told herself that the rich peals of her husband's laughter were making this moment worth it. She had never, ever heard him laugh so freely in all her time with him. After enduring a good two minutes of this, she snapped, "Fine. I will await you two comedians on the sidewalk, when you decide your hunger outweighs your humor." And she exited the car in as dignified a manner as possible, adjusting her cap over her ears. Leaning back against an old brick wall, she tried to regain her lost dignity. _Who was she kidding,_ she smiled. _She'd never held such things that closely in the first place, but she'd felt obligated to pretend._

They joined her, and Thranduil politely offered her his arm. She accepted, smiling.   _We are going to eat a very different kind of food, from an ancient culture  at the other side of the world. It is a vast country called China. Their people have had a long and difficult history in the United States, filled with much unfair prejudice. They are hardworking and industrious, and their food is...to me, delicious. You will see that their physical characteristics look different, exotic, and perhaps you will hear some of their language. It is very different from the English we now speak._

They were seated swiftly, and provided with the vast menus common to such establishments. "What do you think, Brian, five dishes? It will be leftovers galore, but so what. Unless I missed something at home, Thranduil has never had spicy food in his life, so we'd best be careful there...but let's get at least two.  I vote hot and sour soup, Nappa cabbage and shrimp, honey walnut prawns, lobster and egg noodles, and spring rolls. Counterattacks welcome." 

 "Sauteed greens instead of the lobster and egg noodles, and beef chow fun instead of the spring rolls." 

"Um...beef chow fun _and_ spring rolls, and we make sure the hot and sour soup isn't too hot."  

"Deal."

Very quickly, food arrived, and Nenni demonstrated how to hold chopsticks to Thranduil, who looked puzzled. Brian helped portion out the food to all of them, while the server ladled out their soup. "We are eating with hair sticks?" Thranduil asked softly. 

After several random facial contortions necessary to suppressing her laughter, Nenni kindly explained this different, yet practical, way in which to eat food. And that he might use a fork if he preferred, like many Westerners.  They all must have been hungrier than they'd anticipated, because they vanquished the vast majority of the food. They both showed Thranduil how to open his fortune cookie. He read his aloud, "The love of your life will appear in front of you unexpectedly."  His eyebrow raised. Nenni saw him carefully tuck the little paper into his pocket. 

Brian read his: "The opposite of love is not hate. It is indifference." Thranduil's eyes widened, but he said nothing. 

Nenni's was last: " 'Choose another cookie.' Who writes these things?" she said, laughing. A fourth cookie had been brought to them. Thranduil nudged it in front of her, indicating with his eyes for her to take it. Cracking it open, she read, "You will overcome difficult times." Rolling her eyes, she muttered "How cheerful." She did not particularly want to think about the future. Not today. They soon left. 

"Are you still OK to drive, Brian?" 

"You betcha. What's next, some seeing the sights?"

"Yes, she said. We are right at Little Italy, so we may as well go down Columbus. I thought I wanted to to to Nob Hill but...Sts. Peter and Paul is like a cathedral, and it is right here. I thought one religious edifice was worth a shot. Maybe we should just drive the Embarcadero, even though it will probably be a madhouse...there is a lot to see there, from the car.  We can cut over from Ghirardelli square to Lombard, and then the Bridge?" 

"I can do that," Brian replied. It took the better part of an hour to move past all these things, but Thranduil seemed to genuinely enjoy them, and the sight of the ships at the maritime museum, the distant view of Alcatraz, and many other smaller sights held his attention. The Cable Cars particularly enchanted him, and they showed him detailed footage online of how it worked. At last they made their way across the famed Golden Gate Bridge. 

"Marin headlands, to see the sunset, Brian?" 

"My thought exactly, let's do it." 

Soon they arrived at a favorite overlook. Taking Thranduil by the hand, Nenni guided him to where he could at last see why they'd brought him here. He gasped. They were far above the span of the bridge, and the fading rays of daylight blazed onto the rust colored paint, rendering it a golden color. The lights had been lit in San Francisco, and vessels still sailed under the bridge. To his right, he could see the mighty expanse of the great ocean stretch out beyond his vision, to the west. The sight was breathtaking. 

 _I was always proud to call this part of the world my home, Thranduil, though I believe I have a better one now. I am nonetheless grateful, to look on it one last time, with you._  

He squeezed her hand. _As am I, meleth._

She felt his fingers under her chin, as he leaned down to kiss her softly. If Brian had any lingering doubts about the love this elf bore for his friend, watching the tenderness of this gesture buried the last of them. They watched until the last rays of the setting sun disappeared below the horizon, then began the journey north. 

Nenni resumed driving, reasoning that it was essentially a long and uninteresting  slog up Highway 101. She would have liked to have taken the coast highway, but the slowness of the route was a major detraction...not to mention, scenic routes and nighttime made no sense. She stopped for fuel, explaining to Thranduil that the smell that attacked his nostrils was the noxious liquid that powered their vehicle.

"I think we should have at least an outline of how to spend the next two days. I'll be honest, I don't know how this works, but I assume we just disappear from wherever we are when our time expires. First, tonight. How tired are you, Brian? "

"I've had a pretty long day already, I won't lie. But I could go several hours more, after being made to feel so much better." 

"Thranduil, do you require rest?" 

"No meleth, I do not. But I already know that you do. I do not wish you to overextend yourself; if you recall, you were supposed to be resting after having been ill for much of yesterday."

"Oh. I'd forgotten about that. I supposed you are right, as usual. The choices are, drive about two hours to Mendocino or a little more than double that to Humboldt Redwoods.  Which?"

"Mendocino", she heard in stereo. 

"Then Brian, work your smartphone magic, and find us a place to stay. Get two rooms; if it can't work, we can all share one. Finances are not an obstacle, but given that we are only going to sleep there, no point going too nuts. My credit cards are all in a wad in my purse, or I can pay cash. Whatever."

"You've got it." Day was turning to night, and Thranduil watched in fascination as so many lights from the cars and buildings seemed to be everywhere.  The miles went by, quickly.

"Did you like the Chinese food, Thranduil? I forgot to even ask you." 

"It was delicious, though the flavors were very different. I would gladly have it again. I have enjoyed everything I have seen and done today. Thank you, both of you, for so much effort on my behalf." 

"You are welcome, beloved. It is not often I am honored to show someone around from so far distant." 

Brian directed them to lodgings that he secured in his usual friendly manner over the telephone. It was not long before they were all gratefully in their own rooms, agreeing to meet at 6am or close to it, the following morning. 

"Is there anything you need that I can provide you, Thranduil? Water? I do have a bottle of wine in the car, though I am unsure if it would meet with your approval."

"I require nothing, meleth. I know you wish to wash. Please, do so. I would like to join you." 

Nenni stripped off her clothes, grateful most of all to be rid of the hat. Pinning up her hair, she found the shower to be of a generous size, with copious amounts of hot water available. Entering, she soon had herself scrubbed clean of the grime of the city and the salt water of the beach. Thranduil joined her, and she carefully washed his face, legs and feet for him.  She'd been about to turn off the water, when he reached down and met her lips. 

Ever a helpless victim of any surge of his own desire, she opened herself to him. He wished a swift release, and prepared her for him hungrily. By now, she was an instrument in his hands; he could set an inferno in her or breathe slowly on embers, all according to his desire. Tonight he chose the former. Quickly, she was softly gasping in her need for him. With the warm water running over them, he lifted her in his arms, and penetrated her as he held her. Pushing her back into the smooth tiles as he supported her, he drove into the wetness he found within her folds. He respected her desire for discretion here; he had no wish to embarrass her. She relaxed against him, letting him fill her and expertly stroke the sensitive places inside of her. Though she was very quiet, the noises he loved were still there. Softly, she moaned with every pleasure he sent into her. He ensured that her own climax was underway, and then released himself into her with a long and low hum.

 They left the shower clean and deeply relaxed. Nenni set the alarm on her phone for tomorrow, and they went immediately to bed. Soon she was asleep in his arms, as he rested in her untroubled mind. Sleep did not come so readily to him, as his thoughts whirled with visions of the many things he'd experienced in this one day. At last, thoughts of the forests she promised to show him soothed him with gentle anticipation of what tomorrow would bring. He closed his eyes at last, and joined her in sleep.

 

 


	20. Two and a Half Days' Dreaming - Day Two and a Half

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rhiw 30, Imladris, August 22, earth time, Gregorian]

Nenni was awakened before the alarm by soft kisses at her neck and a pulsing hardness underneath her bare bottom. As awareness returned to her, she smiled. His need was not usually quite this frequent, but it made sense to her. With Brian near, the opportunities for intimacy were reduced... and the desire for the one familiar comfort that belonged to both worlds was entirely understandable. 

_How may I please you, Hîr vuin?_ she sent, as she cleared sleep from her mind. By way of response, he burrowed further under the covers, and she felt his hands move to her legs. Carefully maneuvering her knee past him, she compliantly spread her legs wide for him, and bent her knees. His hands locked onto her hips, and his hungry mouth found her. Her desire was there, but this morning she felt it more in terms of wanting to furnish pleasure and comfort to him. 

_If you will bring yourself to my mouth, I will gladly give you the same_ , she offered. Throwing back the covers, he did not hesitate to accept. Reaching up, she enveloped him quickly. Her lips and tongue drew him in deeply. She paid little attention to what he was doing to her, so intent was she on caring for him. The next awareness was that he was pulling himself away from her, swiftly, and was on her like a pouncing cat. Would she ever get used to that maneuver? _Doubtful,_ she thought, amused. He covered her with his body, his penetrating blue eyes watching her gray ones as he slowly entered her. He loved to watch her pupils flare as he sheathed himself fully inside of her. Her hand raised, to caress his cheek, and stroke his hair that cascaded onto her body. But then she reached both her hands down, leaning up somewhat, to grasp his buttocks and pull him deeper into her, hard, while squeezing down on him. He gasped with appreciation, and began to move inside of her. Again she reached out, to pull him in as hard as she could. He did not need a second hint, and gave into his lust. 

He took her in earnest, then, with Nenni being vaguely grateful that this was a very solidly constructed bed, and able to _silently_ support their activity. She clamped down on him, with only one word: _Harder._ She had never asked for this before, and it excited him greatly. He obliged her gladly, but not for long. Overcome by the intense stimulation, he began releasing his seed into her body, moaning softly. The moment this began, she relaxed into the feeling of the heat and the gentle pushes of his climax, and imagined the day he would create their child within her. Her own orgasm broke with crushing force as she clung to him, the fleshy tips of her fingers seeking an anchor in the muscles of his back. Her face contorted silently with the force of her contractions, while he softly gasped at the pleasure it gave him to feel her. Both of them then lay still, spent, and breathing heavily against each other's  warmth. 

_That was much better than the alarm clock, beloved_ , she sent to him as she stretched under him luxuriously, arching her feet. He rolled off of her, still recovering himself. She kissed him tenderly, and went to shower and quickly clean herself. Drying herself and rooting through what clothes she brought, she donned a sports bra that afforded her some support. Her clothing at home was all stitched precisely to her body, and all her garments there took care of this need. But here, a t-shirt would not help her, and she had in mind that today might be filled with walking and running. Watching her in fascination as he dressed, Thranduil asked, "Meleth, what is... _that_ , that you are wearing?'

"It is a bra, a shortened word for brassiere. It is a garment designed to support the breasts. This style, specifically, is a sports bra; made to confine the movement of the breasts with a view to exercise. There are many kinds of bra. Clothing here is not custom-made as it is in your Halls, and it is...uncomfortable...to have one's breasts rocketing all over the place during physical activity such as running. I cannot say what we will do today, so I am taking precautions." He had of course never considered this, not having breasts, and looked confused.

"Have you never run, naked, and had your genitals move around a great deal? Now imagine that, with them weighing many times more than they do." His eyebrows raised; now the problem seemed entirely comprehensible. 

She checked the weather; it was already warm enough, and would be in the mid eighties later. Shorts seemed the best option. While she was finding them clean shirts, the phone alarm sounded. "Turn that off, would you please? Place your finger over the red X, and slide your finger across the screen in the direction the arrow points." Doing as he was asked, Thranduil was nonetheless fascinated when the chiming noise ceased. 

"Meleth, these devices...what is the full extent of what they can do? I have seen you talk to it, talk through it, ask it questions...it can think?" 

Nenni paused... _it was an interesting question, really._ "It cannot think in the way that you mean it...it does not have  self-awareness....yet. It is a machine. But your question raises something that many of us wonder about. Those who make these machines are close, very close, to creating one so sophisticated that for all practical purposes, it will outstrip the human mind, in terms of the speed and intelligence of its capabilities. Raising in turn the question of, what defines life? Consciousness? Is life limited only to flesh and blood, or is life a function of the ability to think and reason? Will machines eventually become alive, better than us? In a way, I am glad I will not be here to see it finally happen. It seems almost inevitable, and some feel it will lead to a time when our own inventions master us.

But to answer your question, the phone has on it what are called 'applications.' See? Each of these little icons represents a single application. Everyone's device is customized according to their wants and needs. Mine has the internet, games,  a means by which I communicate with friends and learn of items of interest to me, ways to monitor my finances, weather information, a calculator for mathematics, camera, ways to purchase goods...on and on. Brian's phone probably has some of the same things, and many different ones."

"What are 'finances'?"  he asked, frowning. "I heard you say this word yesterday."

Nenni regarded him, trying to think how to explain. "If you recall the day I was questioned by your scholars, I explained something at that time, concerning how people here are expected to make their way in the world at a certain age. Everything here has a cost, a price. A person works or otherwise has access to incoming wealth,  and then uses it accordingly to provide for their own maintenance, as well as whatever needs or wants they have. Our system is based almost solely on money, currency. Money is the means by which all things are purchased. So my home, the car, the clothes, the electricity that powers my home, the food we ate last night, the fuel that powers the car...all that has to be paid for. I am trying to simplify it, it is a very complex system."

"And you are...not wealthy?" 

Nenni laughed. "That depends on your point of view. Compared to some, to many, I am very wealthy. Some on Earth lack a home, or enough food, and wear a single rag for clothing...or none at all. But compared to....a king,  or someone with similar wealth to yourself, I live close to poverty. I have always been very careful with money. I worked, did without things I wanted but did not require, and tried to live well inside my means. I wanted it so that in the future, when I grew old and could no longer work to earn money, I might have enough to care for myself. I have never concerned myself with having what was nicest or best, though I found ways to have many nice things. Our world is...strange. A clever person can acquire much for little or nothing, and I will grant that I was clever in this way. All this is another reason I am grateful for this visit. Brian had a...different path. He struggles far more than I, and now all of what I have will be his. If he is careful, he will be without fear of want for the remainder of his life."

Thranduil considered this. "I have never thought of myself as wealthy, but I now see your point." 

Nenni giggled. "Thranduil, I've seen your vault. You are _very_ wealthy. And I am happy for you."  Affectionately tousling his hair, she placed the caps back on both their  heads.  

He suddenly felt a much stronger understanding of why she was so...modest and unassuming...over every kind of material thing. She had schooled herself to this behavior, because prudence demanded it. And he could already see, the sheer number of.... _things_....these Edain had in their world. Luxury to him was clothing and jewels, weapons and furnishings.  It was very different, and he now saw how remarkable it was that she had adjusted so seamlessly to life in his world.

"Ah but you are missing something, beloved. This world we are in now was not the world into which I was born. Few of the things you notice existed even thirty five years ago. Computers did not exist, nor did any other form of advanced electronic device. Technology has run on ahead of who were are as spiritual beings. I have ever kept one foot in the present, while the other is firmly anchored to the distant past. I embraced the old and the new in equal measure, and made an active point of discovering and reinventing how Edain lived a hundred and fifty years ago, or more. It is for that reason that I can live with you so easily. I have never allowed myself to need .....this," she said, as she waved the phone around in her hand.

He drew her to him, to sit next to him on the bed. Gently he claimed her lips, teasing her until she opened to allow him entrance to her mouth. He kissed her thoroughly, and then released her. 

"What was that for?" she asked, confused, and trying very hard to not allow herself to follow it to where she might otherwise go. Just then, a knock was heard at their door. 

"Because you are beautiful, meleth."

Smiling and faintly blushing, she rose up to answer the door. 

"Good morning!" said Brian, beaming.  

"Good morning," came the chorus back. 

Brian's face dropped. "I was so sure you'd flip me off, Nenni. I'm almost disappointed." 

Nenni gave him the one-fingered salute. "Better?" she asked, laughing. "Brian, I don't know how to tell you this, but I wake at dawn almost every day now."

Brian looked at Thranduil, incredulously. "What did you _do_ to her?" he asked, in hushed tones, not really expecting an answer. "There is a coffee shop two blocks over with decent ratings. Sound good?"

"Yes, it does.", Nenni answered "Are we coming back here? Checkout isn't until eleven, but I can't see what else we need." 

"Let's make that decision after we eat...I left my stuff in my room." 

"Fair enough, lead on," Nenni said. They ambled past cute boutique shops that would open up soon, but she really wanted only one thing...two bandanas. These caps needed to go, and bandanas would allow her to hide ears just as well, with so much less warmth. To her delight, she saw that their choice of establishment had a little gift shop with exactly what she wanted. They were seated, and she weighed the wisdom of ordering Thranduil espresso. 

"Brian, Thranduil tried coffee yesterday. Half my sugar, all the cream, and he liked it. Mocha? Yes or no?" Brian thought.

"K....Thranduil," as he caught himself, "the chocolate ice cream yesterday. Did you dislike that flavor, or just prefer it less? The coffee drink Nenni is asking about is made with strong coffee, and some chocolate." 

"I am not certain I would like that," Thranduil said. 

Brian looked at her and said. "Cappucino."

"Yeah. Of course. Good catch. See, this is why I need you for stuff like this," she said grinning. They explained the breakfast options to Thranduil as best they were able, and left him to try and puzzle out what he might like. For Nenni, there was no question. One last opportunity for human-made Eggs Benedict, and she wasn't going to miss it. Once they'd ordered, Nenni spoke to Brian, lowering her voice.

"I need to ruin the mood a little here; we should get this over with." She pulled the envelope from her purse and slid it over to Brian. "Don't lose it. I hand wrote a Last Will and Testament, and took it to the notary on the way out of town. Since I was at the bank to do it, I filled out a transfer-on-death form, so what is in that account can't be sucked into probate. I also fixed up the trust, online, specifying it to pay out to you in increments; I did this because any creditors you have now or in the future cannot get at the money, that way, and it also should protect you from tax nastiness. The farm will need care pretty much right away once we are gone." She reached across to take his hand. "I'm sorry. I wish this visit didn't have the built-in downside. I just want to do what I can to ensure that you can access my assets as smoothly and seamlessly as possible. And there is another thing. I'm texting you right now the master password to...my password software. From my computer, or my phone, you will have access to all my accounts that way; you'll have the cash and cards in my purse. There is nothing owing on anything; car and house are paid for and all is listed as owned by the trust. You already know where I keep cash in the house. I emailed you the contact information of people who will take away the chickens, and I left the water set in such a way that the fruit trees will be kept OK. That was the best I could do...how to keep the gardens and all that going, I have no idea. Maybe you should talk with Ina and just move up there, until you two sort out what you want to do. I hope this will work. The Valar did not provide time for me to arrange anything more."

As Thranduil watched the play of emotions over Brian's face, he felt genuinely sorry for him. _I would take you back with us if I could_ , he thought, though he knew in his heart that Brian did not belong in his world. 

"Who are these Valar, that you talk about?" Brian asked. 

Nenni saw his need to talk about something, anything else. 

"Just as we are elves, the Valar are a race called the Ainur. There are fourteen of them; they were created by Eru Ilúvatar, the supreme power.  They are our gods, if you will; seven Lords and seven Ladies.  The Lords are Manwë, the Wind King and King of the Valar; Ulmo, King of the Waters; Aulë, the Smith and Lord of the Earth; Oromë, the Huntsman and Lord of Forests; Mandos, Judge of the Dead; Lórien, Master of Dreams and Visions; and Tulkas, the Champion.  The Ladies are Elbereth, Queen of Stars and of the Valar; Yavanna, Giver of Fruits and Lady of the Earth; Nienna, Lady of Mercy; Estë, Lady of Healing and Rest; Varië, Weaver of Fate; Vána, the Eternally Young; and Nessa, the Dancer.  They live in Aman, a land across the sea."

Brian smiled. "You talk about them as if you are convinced they are real, Nenni. How is it any different than religion here? I thought you were beyond that."

She returned his gaze unflinchingly. "Because Eru himself has spoken to me, and the Lord Oromë and the Lady Vána have appeared to me. I assure you, they are very real, and I am deeply in their debt for their blessings and kindness." She paused. "Would you like to see?" 

Brian nodded, stunned at what she'd just told him. 

Thranduil interjected. "Let me, meleth. It is easier for me. Brian, reach your hand across the table." Thranduil took Brian's hand, and his vision filled with the glory of the two Ainur. He allowed him to see a long while, before withdrawing his hand. As Brian's vision returned to the present, he said "I think I'm going to need a minute, please excuse me." He stood up, heading for the restroom. 

"Is he well, meleth?" Thranduil worried, that he had just pushed this man past a limitation of which he was unaware.

"He will be alright, he just needs a moment to think. I believe I understand the reason, for his reaction. You see, here, Edain wish desperately for such gods as these. And they do not exist. If I am wrong, and they do exist, then they are cruelly silent. It is the cause of a deep sorrow, to those who are sensitive and deeply thoughtful. It is the hunger of a child for a loving parent, unfulfilled. That is the best explanation I can provide."

Their coffees and food arrived at the same time Brian returned, looking more composed. Nenni smiled. "You will laugh to hear this, Brian, but if you wish to know more about them, look online. There is much about their deeds, explained in a way easier to understand than how I myself learned of them."

"Sorry about that," he said, seating himself. "It is just that even though I can perfectly well see how real this all is, my mind doesn't want to wrap around it. Some of it."

"Don't feel bad," she said. "I went my first month in Middle Earth fully expecting that I was having a break from reality. I thought every minute for most of that time, that I would wake up and find myself in a mental institution."

Thranduil turned to her. "I did not know of this, Adonnenniel. May I ask, when did you stop having these thoughts?"

Nenni looked at him. "When you brought me to your chambers, and I never left. You became an...anchor." She poured some sugar in Thranduil's coffee, stirring it. "Try your coffee, and let me know if it is suitable?"  He tried it, and nodded appreciatively.

As they ate, Brian said "If it is not too personal, can I ask...how you two got together? Your wedding rings are incredibly beautiful, Nenni, may I see them?" 

Nenni worked the rings off her hand, asking her husband silently _do I have your consent, to answer him?_

_Yes._

Handing the rings to Brian, she said, "I think you remember mithril, from the Lord of the Rings? These are of mithril, with adamant and emeralds. Elves call diamonds 'adamant', and 'gems of Starlight'. These were one of his wedding gifts to me; the other was my name. I am now called Adonnenniel Edlothiad. Edlothiad is an epessë, the name a husband gives to his wife. It means, flower, in our language." 

As he handed them back to her after admiring them, he saw her branded fingers. "What...?" he asked, touching the slightly raised ridges with his finger. 

"That comes later in the story, one thing at a time," she said laughing. "I told you already that I was taken away, because I was never supposed to have been here. I do not have the memories of my earlier life there, but Thranduil and others do. My spirit, my fëa, was born in an Elven body thousands of years ago. My name then, as now, was Adonnenniel. Thranduil and I were wed, and we had an  son, Legolas. There was a great war against one who used to be a Vala, but fell into evil. Thranduil and I fought beside each other in this conflict. A great and powerful dragon found us. The dragon split my spirit from my body and banished it to earth, and he consumed my body in fire. The dragon did this in order to leave Thranduil alive but injured, to make him live with that loss of everything he held dear. My fëa was kept here, born into a new body over and over, for millennia. I was forever lost to Thranduil.  

You must realize, usually, if elves are killed, they go to Mandos, and are reembodied in the West. They can be reunited with their loved ones, eventually. But the dragon stole even this from him. Thranduil suffered in all that time, more than anyone should ever have to. One day, his prayers were answered. Eru saw fit to return me from Earth. To Thranduil. But I had no memories, of any of this. The first weeks I was there, I slowly began to change, physically, into what you see now. And then the day came when I was told of everything that happened. The Lady Galadriel came, to help us. I had already fallen in love with Thranduil. Once I comprehended what had happened, I renewed my vows to Thranduil, so that he would understand that I acknowledged him as my husband, and accepted that our marriage had never been broken. With only the rarest of exceptions, elves marry once, for all time. We did not 'get together' so much as, what was severed was rejoined." 

Turning to Thranduil, she handed him her rings, holding out her hand. He understood her wish, and taking them from her, he replaced them on her hand. Brian had looked at both of them as she spoke, and saw the pain that flashed across the King's face as Nenni told her tale. He had no ability to process this, either. It was all...bigger than him. She had risen to cope with circumstances he could barely understand, and crossed into the life to which she seemed to truly belong. When Thranduil replaced the rings on her fingers, he looked away. He perceived that he was looking on the echo of an astoundingly intimate moment between them. 

Surprising Nenni, Thranduil now spoke. "The markings under her rings were made by the same kind of fire that took her away from me. Adonnenniel told you that the dragon left me injured. I was blinded in one eye, and my face was badly disfigured. Wounds made by dragonfire cannot be healed; yet, she found a way to accomplish it. It cost her great pain and injury. Those scars are a permanent reminder of what she did for me. They cannot be healed."  

Brian suddenly looked up, remembering what he'd seen in the films. "Those were the injuries you showed to Thorin Oakenshield," he said, looking up at him, his eyes full of sympathy. "I am so glad, to know that you are restored. You are far too...beautiful...of a person to bear such scars."

Thranduil frowned. "How could you possibly have known of this?" 

Nenni came to Brian's rescue, taking her husband's hand. "The same way I knew, Thranduil. You are not unknown here. It is why we have had to be...careful.  There were few things told about you, but that was one of them."

Now it was Thranduil's turn to digest something. This made him feel...uncomfortable. He spoke quietly. "Do I want to know what else is known here, about me?"

Nenni considered him. "The simple answer is, the the story of Bilbo Baggins until the time of his return to his home is what is known; and your part in that tale is what is known of you. It has no bearing on your time here, and no bearing on your life once we return. I would recommend not asking further, but as always, I will tell you what you wish."

They finished the last of their food, Nenni purchased her bandanas, and they left to walk back to their rooms, to prepare to leave. "Give me fifteen minutes, and I'll be ready," said Brian, returning to his room. They entered their own. Nenni began to pack their few things, until she realized that Thranduil stood inside the door and had not moved. He stared at her, with a strange expression on his face. _Is something the matter, beloved?_ She walked to him, to take his hands. 

_You knew what I was like, before I showed it to you myself. You knew about Tauriel, you knew how I had treated others. And yet you still gave me your trust, bound yourself to me?_

Nenni smiled, reaching up to caress his cheek. _I cared about what you are, not what you were. I love you, Thranduil. It was not a difficult decision. Come, sit for me. Unless you prefer to wear that hat all day._

_Not until I kiss you._ She felt herself being lifted into his arms, and gladly allowed him his wish. He then carried her to the edge of the bed, and sat down. Nenni tied the bandana on him, to see if it would work. It did. "This may cause a different problem," she said, thinking aloud. He stood and looked in the mirror. 

"It is comfortable, meleth, and much cooler. I do not see the problem."

Sighing, Nenni said, "The problem is, that effect you have on others is going to be enhanced markedly with this. You are already having that effect on me." _He looks like a rock star_ , she thought.

Back in the car, Nenni asked Brian to map the short hop south to Van Damme State Park. "Today, Thranduil, I will show you the smallest and the greatest of our woods. We are going to see a forested canyon filled with ferns, and what is called the Pygmy forest, where few of the trees are taller than you are. It is an unusual sight, and we are very close by." 

They parked, and Nenni asked to take a few moments to admire the ocean. She noticed more stares than she preferred, directed at her striking husband. 

"Brian, can we try something? Give Thranduil your sunglasses, please?" Stopping back at the car, she found a spare rubber band, and brought his hair back to a loose pony tail. As they moved toward the Fern Canyon, she saw that he now only received an occasional glance. "Sorry, Brian, we are commandeering your glasses until we get away from civilization. They appear to be helping quite a lot."

Brain chuckled. "I'm honored, trust me." He made certain to discreetly add a few more photos of Thranduil wearing his sunglasses, to his collection. 

The Elvenking was enthralled, by this place. These trees were healthy, vital, and the plants that grew under their canopies were many shades of green. It was lush, and filled with life. It pained him to think of his own woods, and the sickness that ate away at them. But here, it was very different, and it filled his heart with gladness. They walked on, with Nenni occasionally telling him the name of a plant. The deep humus gave way beneath each of his steps, and he felt content. Eventually their steps took them  to the Pygmy Forest trail, and the wooden walkways through the stunted trees. 

"How is this possible?" asked Thranduil, puzzled, looking their diminished forms."Are these not the same trees?" 

"It is the soil," Nenni answered. It is like....vinegar. Very acidic. It is this, that makes the trees grow as they do." They wound their way out of the strange and small grove, to return the way they came. "Thranduil, look! Come here," she said, excitedly. She'd just discovered a well laden huckleberry bush, and tasted one. It was sweet and delicious. Quickly she picked several, offering them to him. "Try these, they are a favorite of mine," she said, picking more for Brian as well. 

"Remember the time in Oregon, when we had huckleberry ice cream, Nenni?" Brian asked. 

"Best I ever tasted," she replied. 

Thranduil marveled at the tiny delicacies. The flavor was not like any berry he'd had at home, and was very pleasing. Carefully, he removed a few of the tiny seeds from his mouth, placing them on the thin slip of paper from his fortune cookie. Re-folding it, he returned it to his pocket. 

Soon enough, they were on the road again. "Next stop, up to Ft. Bragg, then Willits. There is a place there where we can eat gyros. Then it's on to the Humboldt Redwoods, where I intend for us to have a grand experience."

_Thranduil, am I correct in thinking that you have both the desire and the skills to go deep into any forest, even one not your own?_

He smiled. _Yes meleth, I do._

_Now for the stranger question. Brian cannot run as we do..._

_He weighs nothing to me, meleth. I will carry him on my back._

_Then it is settled._

At the gyro shop, Nenni explained that these meat and vegetable filled flatbreads were a reflection of another culture on earth, one similar to that from which her mother had come. Thranduil found the sauce very appealing. They happily stuffed themselves. Making an executive decision, Nenni ordered more, to take with them, of the foods offered that would be pleasing even eaten cold. It was now 11:30 in the morning; they would reach the redwoods in two and a half hours. 

"Nenni, I have something that you will like, but I'll only play it if you let me drive north," Brian said. 

Nenni looked at him, narrowing her eyes.  "As if that's a hard sell" she laughed. "You have the keys to your car, as I recall."

Thranduil insisted that Nenni sit in front, against her wishes. She was so used to yielding to him, though, she did not put up much fuss. With much flourish, Brian loaded two CDs into the player. 

"Am I in for an hour of Kid Rock?" she asked, suspiciously, recalling a bygone road trip.

"No", Brian said, "shut up and thank me later." Nenni stuck out her tongue at him. And Thranduil, watching this from his vantage point, was highly amused. 

What ensued was a steady stream of all her favorite pop music, to which they both knew all the words. After the third song, Nenni said, "OK, you win. Thank you, this is awesome." Soon, some Queen songs entered the foray. "Freddie!" Nenni gasped. Oblivious, she closed her eyes and launched into "Somebody" and "Save Me" in her flawless soprano. Thranduil had never heard music like this in his life, but even he had to admit, it had a certain appeal. He saw another side to his wife, one far less formal and more relaxed. So many of the songs were filled with yearning for love...in his own way, he could relate. 

Later on came Simon and Garfunknel, "Bridge Over Troubled Water", and "Dangling Conversation".  Thranduil could hear that she poured her heart into these. He also realized, how many songs she knew that she had never sung for him. He might have to ask her to rectify that. The second one particularly entranced him, as it painted a picture in song.

_It's a still life water color, on a now late afternoon, as the sun shines through the curtain lace, and shadows cross the room...._

He leaned forward, placing his arm around her chest. She reached up immediately, to take his arm with her fingers. 

_Couched in our indifference, like shells upon the shore, can you hear the ocean roar?_

She reclined her seat back, to make it easier for him to touch her. Brian turned at one point, briefly catching Thranduil's eye as they drove on. The two exchanged a knowing smile that said, "our little songbird." Brian loved to hear her sing, knowing well how hard it could be to coax her to do so. He felt perfectly justified in using irresistible tactics to accomplish his goal. 

At last they parked in the Visitor's Center. Brian wished to look inside, and there was no harm in that. She sent Thranduil with Brian, while she packed their food, water, and a blanket into her backpack. Both of the elves could do without, at need; she wished to ensure that Brian would be comfortable enough. She decided to keep her electronics, cash and cards with her; no point offering temptation to any would-be thief while they were away from the car.

Joining them inside, she explained their intention to walk the woods through the night to the rangers, offering reassurance that they were extremely skilled at being outdoors and would comply with all restrictions. She ensured that everyone saw the small display about Charles Kellogg, the man who could flawlessly imitate birdsong with his voice. Soon enough, they left. 

Nenni assigned Brian to carry a few things in his pack. Namely, a jacket, water and the tequila she'd brought; there was no need of more. They changed back to longer pants, and set off. 

Nenni handed Thranduil a map of the park.  _There are many trails, ranging from one to perhaps three leagues. It is the forest in between you may find the most pleasing._ She also took a moment to explain about poison oak, and either not leading Brian through it or planning to heal his skin before the terrible blistering reaction could result. It went without saying, that it could not affect an elf. Lastly, she made mention that there were venomous serpents here, and to mind not stepping on them. And bears. And a kind of lion. The elf raised his eyebrows, and smiled.

If the forests with the ferns were lovely, these woods were without equal. There were large tress in Eryn Galen, but these...these were Titans, peerless in size and beauty. For a mile or two they kept to the trail, but Nenni could see Thranduil looking longingly into the denser, untouched spaces. Finally, he stopped, and turned to his friend. "Brian, I wish to go where it will be too difficult for you to follow. You must climb on my back; I will take you." Brian's mouth hung open. 

"Thranduil, I thank you, but I can manage on my own."

Nenni looked up to the canopy, suddenly fascinated by nothing in particular. This did not escape Brian's attention.

Thranduil stepped directly in front of Brian, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Brian, it was not a request. Do as I say." The elf's eyes were kind, but the tone of his voice made it clear that it would be  unwise to argue further. Brain glanced at Nenni for help, and saw only an expression that said, _it is useless to oppose him._

Brian's shoulders slumped in defeat. Thranduil went down on one knee, to make it very easy. Taking Brian's legs firmly in his arms, he rose up with Brian seated on his back as though he were weightless. Looking at Nenni, Thranduil spoke: "Follow me."

Brian needed less than thirty seconds to understand why he was perched on the back of an elf. The two of them sprang off into a dead run, nimbly leaping over, onto and around obstacles that were not insignificant. More surefooted than deer, they ran into the untouched places of the forest at astonishing speed. He could not have had a prayer of keeping up with them, not for even thirty seconds. He had thought he was in reasonable physical condition, but that was before he had seen this.

Nenni reveled to run in only her clothing; this was the first time she had been permitted to exercise in a forest with no armor. And though her swords and armor were no burden to her, they were still a harness around her body. It was exhilarating. After bounding along for some time, they came to a place that apparently pleased Thranduil. He stopped, allowing Brian to stand on his own feet again. "You are a good passenger, Brian," he smiled. "Though he would not like me to tell it, I once spent a day with my young son choking me, on a similar outing."

Brian looked up at him, chagrined. "Thank you, I think. And I am sorry for resisting you. I did not understand."

Nenni had already removed her backpack, and had found a very large fallen log on which she now was stretched out. It was rotting, and covered in moss and clover; exceedingly comfortable. She wished to listen to the forest sounds, and smell the air here. It was so fresh and clean, and could not be more different than the winter snows in Eryn Galen. Though the emotion deeply surprised her, there was a part of her that already wished this visit to be over with. The truth was, her heart was already lost to a different forest in a different world, in spite of the difficulties facing it. Had she been brought here alone, it would have been hellaciously difficult to cope. She had wanted, missed some things and people from here, but that was not the same as wanting to be here. 

It was still a puzzle to her, what her husband might gain from this, that was important enough to uproot them in this manner. Yet if it was the will of the Valar, nothing else need be asked. Sighing deeply, she realized that they were already at the halfway marker of their time here. Like it or dislike it, it would be over with in a blink. Her thoughts turned more to...a question. _What is the world that shaped me, that he is here to see?_ Fractions of it were in what they were doing, but there was no one answer. When she really started adding up the sum of her experiences...in many countries and places...it seemed more like the fact that she was in motion, always learning. Learning. ' _I am still learning'_ , said Michelangelo. _That, more than anything, shaped me._

Nenni felt a tap on her shoulder, and opened her eyes. Brian stood next to her, and pointed. Nenni sat up to see Thranduil scaling one of the great trees more or less as though he were a squirrel. This was new; she knew all elves could climb trees, but had generally assumed branches had to be involved. Probably, she could do the same as he was doing now; she had what should be an adequate measure of the strength and agility. It was the getting down part, that lacked general appeal. If she had a rope or line, that would be one thing, but she did not.  A fall from that height....she shuddered just thinking about it. It would be interesting to see how he descended, just from a technical standpoint. Her curiosity did not have long to wait; he descended by allowing himself to more or less drop in ten foot increments, clamping down with his hands and feet on the trunk to arrest his momentum. Watching him, all she could think was _No way in hell._

_Come here, meleth, I wish to show you something._

"I am being summoned," she said to Brian. "I reluctantly give you my space on this exceedingly comfortable log. Guard the provisions."

Nenni approached Thranduil. _Yes, Hîr vuin?_

_Climb._

Her eyes narrowed. _How far?_

_As far as I ask it, Adonnenniel._

_Thranduil. You know perfectly well, that I am afraid of falling. I cannot do as you do._

_You can, and you must. You have sworn to._

_I do not understand, Hîr vuin._

_You vowed to defend your kingdom. I am sorry to say, some of your enemies live high in the trees, and that is where they must be hunted. Your fear of heights and falling must be fully conquered before I can even begin to teach you to fight the spiders._

_This is not happening,_ Nenni thought. Turning, she began to walk away, seeing a log on which to sit, putting distance and the large tree between her and Brian. _I need to think._

_Adonnenniel, do not turn from me._

She turned abruptly to look at him.   _I quote: "You are not under obligation to me, here, meleth."_

His eyes widened and hardened as she'd guessed they might. The temptation to play that card had been overwhelming....but she would not play it for long. She bowed her head.

_Thranduil,_ _I will obey you._   _I am turning because I need a moment to think of how I am going to find the courage to do as you have commanded. Can you honestly tell me you have never hesitated, ever, out of fear of something? And, there are times when it would be easier if you would ask, and not command. I have neither your physical ability or your insight in matters such as these._ She raised her eyes to him.   _Can you not grant me a few minutes, Hîr vuin? Please?_

He returned her gaze, his eyes unreadable. By inclining his head in a single nod, he answered her. 

_Thank you,  Hîr vuin._

Walking to the log, she sat, folded her arms over her knees, and lowered her head onto her folded arms. Waves of unease washed over her.  She remembered the nights on the ship, not sleeping, a knot in her stomach over the thoughts of having to climb those damnable shrouds the following day. It wasn't just the mast, it was the six feet of it called the futtock shrouds, that required her to be suspended at an obtuse angle to what lay above her. She was barely strong enough to pull herself over this nightmare and onto the platform above it, and day in and day out her fear of losing her grip and falling roiled through her every waking minute....until another woman taught her how it could be done, within her physical means.  Thinking to herself, she tried to find...something.  _Maybe he means to teach me, but he never says what he means. Always, it is a command, and I must obey. Is this going to be like that godawful day of weapons training? Hope not. This is so much easier back home, where I am fully aware I have no choice. Here, I do have a choice, and it is just making it more difficult......nnnnnnggggg._ She sighed. _Do what you promised him you would. The worst thing that can happen is, you break every bone in your body. He can heal you, so, piece of cake._

She rose up and walked to him, inclining her head in submission.  Turning to the tree, she sighed one more time, found a handhold, and began to climb. Her hands were very strong, and she easily found holds in the very ragged bark. Not very much later, she heard him.

_Stop. Now let go, and fall._

She had never wanted to stall, dither, argue or protest more in her entire life, but somewhere inside of herself she summoned her trust of him, and did as he said. The fear she felt was very strong, but she forced herself to let go. The feeling was sickening, just like the time she'd talked herself into jumping into a very deep pool from a height of maybe only ten feet once. In the blink of an eye, she was caught in his arms.

_You did well. Again, climb. Please._ She heard the "please" as an afterthought, but at least it was there.

This time he had her go incrementally higher.

_Stop, fall._

This set of commands was repeated another four times. With each fall, Nenni realized that the terror the sensation of falling held in her mind was diminishing; she was becoming accustomed to the feeling...and now began to see that this was something he'd realized all along. Caught once again, as he placed her on her feet she reached out to him, holding his arms lightly. 

_Please pardon my earlier behavior, Thranduil. I..._

He held up a hand to stop her. While he spoke, he stepped behind her, to braid her hair for her. Long loose hair would not do, for what came next.

_You were afraid. It is out of long habit, that I am very hard on those I instruct; some of what you said to me has merit. But perhaps I have seen something in you that you yourself have overlooked, Adonnenniel. Your greatest successes are not from being told what must change within you, but from discovering the path in your own way. Now back up into the tree, and this time, you will somersault down, attempting to land on your feet. I have seen you tumble; you must now learn to use the distance of your fall to control your movements. I will tell you this, though, to aid your confidence. Your elven body can absorb the force of a considerable fall without taking serious hurt. But the goal is to not merely fall; you must use the descent as a creature of the trees would. You must not only cease to fear the motion, you must embrace it. I will not allow you to land badly. Trust me, and trust yourself._

_Thank you, Hîr vuin._ Nenni ascended the tree again, now filled with a desire to succeed, for him. The dramatic shift in her outlook did not escape him. He watched as she pushed backward off the tree, arcing and tucking into a perfect ball, unwinding into a crouched landing that absorbed all of the impact. She stood up, looking for his evaluation of what she'd done. 

He pulled her up to embrace her. _I could not have asked for better, meleth. Next, we try something else. You saw how I descended the tree. Climb a short way this time, perhaps just two fathoms. Then stop your fall. First with your hands, swiftly followed by seeking a hold with your feet._

On the first try, she scraped her fingers badly, but she did stop her fall. She held her hands out to him for healing. _What did I do wrong?_

As he repaired the damage, he sent _You did not grasp the tree decisively. You must grapple onto the bark with all the strength in your hands, no hesitation. It is only then that the rest of your body, legs, and feet can aid you in arresting your momentum. Try again._

This time she succeeded, smiling with happiness. _May I try from higher?_

_Yes, but you must learn the sense of how often to stop your descent, especially at first. I will tell you when to make your first stop; your second one will be just before you reach the ground._

This too was a complete success. _You have earned a respite, meleth. Well done._ He kissed her forehead.

Brian had watched this entire thing. The first time she fell, his heart had leaped into his throat, until he saw Thranduil effortlessly catch her. After that, it became a complete fascination, as he tried to work out what they were doing, or why. It seemed obvious after a time, that he was teaching her....something, though he could not puzzle out why anyone would wish or need this...level of aerobatic ability.  He felt envious of what he saw. It was clearer all the time, the ways in which they outstripped his own abilities even when he'd been in his prime. He saw them returning to them, and smiled. "Don't stop, I was enjoying the display," he said. 

"I thought you might be", chuckled Thranduil. "Would you like me to take you up into the tree, Brian? There is much to see, even a short way up."

_Fuck yes!_ , Brian thought privately, but amended the words that came out of his mouth to, "Yes, please, I would love that."

Nenni watched as her husband fearlessly moved up the tree, into the heights above. So massive were these giants, there were no branches easily visible....much of anywhere below 150 feet. As they disappeared from view, Nenni began to feel a strong urge toward mischief. _Just a little revenge, for him being a pill_ , she thought quietly, keeping the thought submerged. Searching around, she sought out a safe place to leave her backpack; across the clearing, she located a madrone tree that could constitute a bear-proof storage option. Climbing into it, she looped the pack onto a spur several feet out from the trunk, then tumbled to the ground below, pleased with her new skills. Surveying the nearby big trees, she chose one a little distance off. Looking up into the canopy, she took a deep breath, smirked, and ascended. Higher and higher she went, stopping only for a short rest when she'd passed into the scaffold branches, to look around. The ground was far, far below, and there was yet much higher to go. She knew these trees could reach three hundred feet or more; when she could at last see outward into the forest and the scaffolds were becoming smaller, she reasoned that she was pretty damn far up there. 

Looking at her choices, she found a north facing branch that was wide and comfortable and afforded her the view she wished to enjoy. Feeling mightily amused, she seated herself and proceeded to relax. Closing her eyes, she allowed her thoughts to drift along with the perfectly cool breeze that carried the rich smell of the trees past her nostrils. She did not know or care what time was passing. Contentment swept over her. In her quiet, she began to _feel_ the tree beneath her. There was something....the faintest echo of the power and magic of her garden. Unfolding her hands from her lap, she placed both against the tree, listening, opening herself. She heard the faintest whispers, though she could not understand. Nenni sent her feelings of gratitude and joy at being cradled in its strong arms, into the tree beneath her.  A touch against her fingers broke her reverie. Looking, she saw that new tender needles were sprouting between her spread fingers. And yet, she was not commanding this.  Closing her eyes, she leaned back firmly against the trunk. A tear ran down her cheek, for the mystery and wonder of what she'd found here. She believed the tree had reached out to her, with what little voice it had.

_Adonnenniel, where are you?_ broke into her moment of deep reverence. She'd forgotten, that she'd come up here in the first place to be a trickster.

Returning to the present, she sent, _Where am I indeed, Hîr vuin?_

On the ground, Thranduil's eyes narrowed. Turning to Brian, who was still exhilarated from his dizzying ride, the elf said, "Brian, your friend is an....imp." 

Brian laughed heartily, the noise of which carried up to Nenni in her treetop. "She's been called a lot worse than that, King Thranduil. And usually with good reason."

_Adonnenniel, return now, and I shall let you off without comment. If you require me to find you, it shall be otherwise._

Nenni weighed her odds, which she saw as highly in her favor, and chose the dark side. _If I thought you could find me, Hîr vuin, would I have hidden myself in the first place?_

_So be it._

Thranduil turned pleasantly to Brian, smirking. "You will have to excuse me, while I am forced to play hide and seek with my wife. Whatever you may hear once I find her, rest assured, she will survive. Maybe." 

Looking around, Brian said, "Just curious, Thranduil. How _do_ you plan to manage that?" 

Thranduil smiled. "I am Lord of the Greenwood, Brian. Adonnenniel fails to consider, that she only knows little, yet, of my woodcraft. In six thousand years, I might have learned a few things, about how to find those wishing to hide." Brian chuckled, giving Thranduil another invitation for a fist bump. It was returned, with a sense of camaraderie Thranduil could not recall feeling in a long while. He could not have...friends...like this, as King, except perhaps those who were his peers. And of them, he had found no one to whom he had felt particularly drawn. The simple fun of having another male with whom to banter had not been his, in most of the long years of his life.

Thranduil now brought his focus to the exact location he'd seen her last. His eyes found the faintest traces of her footfalls, as she'd walked....to the tree in which she'd hung her belongings. He saw the impression of her fall, and then easily followed the subtle signs of her passage to the base of her tree. 

_One last chance, Adonnenniel. You were not difficult to find._

_You're bluffing._

_So be it._

He climbed silently, privately impressed that she had gone from terrified to... _this_... in the space of an hour. Swiftly and silently he brought himself to within sight of her, and then simply completed his climb on the other side of the massive tree. Placing himself a short distance above and to the side of her, he was able now to study her. She was relishing something she'd found here, and he looked on in fascination to see the new growth that continued to slowly unfold around her resting body. He could perceive she was not commanding it, but that it was happening in response to something about...her. 

_Told you, you were bluffing_ , she sent, taunting him. 

He rolled his eyes, and sprang from his perch to straddle her legs, swiftly pinning her arms.

Nenni inhaled so sharply that it made her choke, so badly startled was she. Turning her head so as not to cough in his face, she desperately tried to clear her throat. She succeeded, but not before tears ran down her cheeks from the effort. Her eyes were wide as saucers, when she looked at him. And she knew that look on his face, all too well. 

"So I was bluffing, was I, meleth?" 

She looked at him in bewilderment, brazenly slipping into his thoughts. Frowning in frustration, she said, "You can...track. And in not knowing this, I misjudged you badly."

"You did, at that," he whispered. "Give me your word that you will not try to run, or imprison me with some form of plant life, and I will release your hands."

"I promise," Nenni said. She'd been beaten fairly, by her own miscalculations, and she knew it. He released her. And then proceeded to pull down her jeans, swiftly exposing her.

"Here? _Now?"_ she asked, incredulously. The wicked grin she received in return did not reassure her. Within minutes, she was aching for him, under his ministrations. Thranduil raised her to her feet and turned her, hobbled  still by her own clothing, to face the tree trunk. He took her from behind, pouring every ounce of his lust and pleasure into her mind. She softly cried out as the stabs of longing surged through her loins. She became insensible with need, as he neared his climax..but denied the stimulation she needed from him, her own body was unfulfilled, as she felt the heat of his seed filling her.  It was plain, then, how he would exact his revenge. 

_I will release you, Adonnenniel, if you will scream for me._

She rolled her forehead across the tree, knowing that with Brian in earshot. She could not. She simply...could not.

_Then I must endure, as you intended. I cannot do this._

Turning her again and lowering her down, he removed one of her shoes, carefully securing it to a belt loop of her jeans. He freed one of her legs from the jeans and underclothes, and spread her legs. Anchoring her hips with his hands, he took her with his mouth.

_So be it._

Everything he did set her on fire. He cleaned her of his own seed by slowly, luxuriously coaxing every last drop down from her, with a hungry tongue  and sweeping fingers. She moaned and moaned from the pleasure of it, but had already accepted that there would be no relief for her. Thranduil was astounded at her resistance, and was unaccustomed to not winning in the end. He entered her again, this time raising her onto him, pulling her into his embrace. He ran his hands under her clothing to expose her breasts, kissing and tenderly sucking on her nipples. Bringing her to within an inch of the edge, her eyes were closed and her moans were low and unending.

_Will you yield to me? I can feel your need; you are burning with it. Why do you do this to yourself?_

_I cannot, Hîr vuin. I cannot scream, with Brian near. If this is your payback, I accept it._

_Look at me, Adonnenniel._ She complied, gazing into the intense blue of his irises. He began to move inside of her again, one arm pulling her into him, harder and harder. He held her gaze as she slipped once again into ecstasy. _Now close your eyes._

He lowered his head to take her breasts once again, expertly licking and pulling on them. When he had her right at the edge, once again, she heard in her mind:

_Come together with me._ He pushed into her, hard, releasing both of them at the same time. Shuddering in his lap, she held onto him as relief  was finally granted to her. When she had subsided, she leaned up to kiss him, in gratitude. He pulled out of her carefully.

"Let me clean you?" she offered. Taking him in her mouth, she carefully removed every taste of their passion. And once again, he did the same for her, being careful to steer clear of her very oversensitive center. They replaced and straightened their clothing.

"You probably just rewarded bad behavior," she said," but I will not take advantage of your kindness. Thank you, for the pleasure."

He smiled. "Yes, I probably did. Do you feel you have your strength, Adonnenniel? You set yourself quite a task; it is a long way down."

"I am ready. Is there more I should know?" 

"Only that you may, or may not, wish to take advantage of how to descend while there are branches. The principle is the same. You will use very firm grips of your hands, using the motion to swing your feet or arms toward the next goal. Watch me." Seeing what he'd done, she felt she could imitate it. Not wishing to be cocky at this altitude, she jumped more conservatively than he did, focusing on making a good landing on each branch, or swinging only when she was certain that the next branch was an easy landing. Eventually, she met him at the last two branches before the long expanse of bare trunk lay below her.

_I will descend first. Wait for my instruction, and then I will help you do the same. I wish to ensure you have more experience before attempting something this tall alone._

She inclined her head to him in acknowledgement, and in a flash he was on his way down. At his command, she negotiated the familiar sequence. _Fall, stop. Fall stop._ At half the distance, she realized she was beginning to tire. 

_I can feel your fatigue, Adonnenniel. Remain where you are, until your arms can recover somewhat. You are doing well._

Looking down after about three minutes' rest, she told herself Y _ou can do this. You are no higher than the mainmast was, on the ship._

_May I continue?_ she asked Thranduil.

_Two more drops, no more._

She did this, and still felt as though she had strength to go further.

_I know you do, Adonnenniel, but wait another minute nonetheless. And then, one more._

This next one  left her a tempting thirty five feet up...she was so close, and wished to be out of this tree. She was not certain that the breaks were allowing her to rest, so much as using up her remaining strength by which she was hanging on.

_Please, this is taking too long. May I not finish before my arms tire completely?_

He sighed. She was close enough that he could catch her, but he did not relish the shock it would be to do so, should she lose her grip on the first fall.

_Yes. But please concentrate carefully._

The first two falls she did well. On the last, her strength failed and she did not grip the tree hard enough. She arrested her momentum about ten feet up, smarting from the pain in her torn hands.  He could feel what had happened. 

_Fall, Adonnenniel. I will catch you._

He set her on her feet once again, taking her hands, and knitting the flesh back together. Her arms felt like barely set gelatin. His gaze bored into her.

_I am very proud of what you have done and overcome today, Adonnenniel. But if you ascend another such tree without my consent, you will answer to me. Do I make myself clear? We may be on earth, but your safety is still my concern._

Bowing her head to him, she answered. _I will comply, Hîr vuin. And, I must ask something of you._

_Yes?_

_I hung my backpack in the madrone tree. I am ashamed to say, I do not think I am able to retrieve it without rest, and it has our food and water. I would guess, Brian might like to eat. As would I._

_Of course._ He offered his hand, which she gratefully accepted, lacing her fingers between his.  As Nenni rejoined Brian while Thranduil obtained their provisions, Brain smiled. "You didn't tell me that elves were this entertaining, Nenni."

Frowning, she replied, "That is because I'm not sure I knew we were that entertaining myself. But did you like your tree? It is magnificent, up there so high."

"Oh, did I ever. It was very...kind...of him, to do that for me. It felt like being a baby chimpanzee. Seriously, you could charge money for rides like that." 

Nenni laughed. "Well, if we ever find ourselves marooned on Earth, I'll be sure and get business cards made up right away. Elven Elevators, at your service." They laughed, and Thranduil arrived with their food. 

"Picnic on the log," Nenni announced. Spreading out the containers of foods from the Greek eatery, they ate with their hands, as carefully as possible. For dessert, she brought out three pieces of the honeyed baklava, warning him that he might find it stupendously sweet and rich. Which he did, leaving most of his piece for later. When they were done, she carefully folded up what was trash, and stored it with what little still remained to be eaten in her pack. And then she reminded Brian about the tequila.

Brian's eyes lit up. "You were holding out on me, Nenni, that's not nice!"

"I'm perfectly nice," she shot back, amused, "I remembered you had it, didn't I?  Now, I have to warn you. I don't know if Thranduil will even like this. And, it takes comparatively monumental amounts of alcohol to faze an elf. So this bottle is mostly for you, as there is no way either of us are going to be damaged by it."

Brian eyed them. "You're joking?" Rather than answer, Nenni turned to Thranduil and asked, "Thranduil, the drink I made for you the other morning, that you liked. Did it affect you at all, in terms of the alcohol?" 

"No meleth, I do not believe it did, though it was delicious."

Looking back at Brian, she said "that drink had six shots of my best bourbon, and he had the whole thing down in two minutes. Do you believe me now?" 

Uncorking the new bottle of Don Julio, Brian  said, "Well, a toast to my friends who regrettably cannot get numb noses, then." With that, he took a healthy swig, handing the bottle to Nenni, who took a sip. She liked the flavor, even if it wouldn't affect her. Holding out the bottle, she offered it to Thranduil. 

"It is made from the fermented heart of a cactus plant, and is not sweet. Edain either like it a great deal, or not at all."

Thranduil took an experimental sip, making a face. "It has the flavor of oak, like wine. But I do not like the taste." 

Nenni laughed. "You are not alone."

"There is no need to be concerned, meleth. I will have my own wine at my disposal, soon enough."

It was about an hour prior to sunset. "Before night falls, or we consume too much, I want it to be clear, for Brian, that we intend to spend the night in this place? It is unlawful for us to build a fire, but neither will it be cold tonight." 

"I feel perfectly fine with that; I don't need much,"  Brian chimed in.

"Thranduil? Is this place acceptable to you, or...?"

"Yes, I wish to stay here, meleth."

Nenni said, "then first, would both of you please get off the log for a moment? I will make some improvements."

Once they'd cleared away, she focused her power on the mosses on top of the huge log, growing them and increasing them. The same happened to a patch of clovers, that were in such a places as to make nice pillows. She removed their two blankets, and water, from her pack, then asked Thranduil to hang it in the tree again for her.

"Meleth, why is this necessary?" 

Brian and Nenni both looked at him and replied in stereo: "Bears."

Taking back the bottle, Nenni raised it and said, "To the bears. May they roam just about anywhere else," taking a swig and handing it to Brian. 

"That's right, those are your favorite, aren't they, Nenni?" Brian asked.

"Yeah...." she said weakly. "Excuse me for a minute, time to find a bush somewhere." She stalked off, suddenly pondering bears and just how far they were from....everything. 

When she was out of earshot, Thranduil asked Brian, "What was that about?" 

Brian smiled. "She's terrified of bears. Always has been." 

Thranduil frowned. "Did something happen to her?" 

"No. I think what happened is, she knows a lot about them. She's thought too much on what they can do, and have done, and she's let it run away with her. I think if she ever encountered one, she'd do fine; she sure as hell knows what to do. It is the idea of them she's afraid of...in my opinion."

"That sounds...much like what I have been dealing with, in other areas."

"Do you mind if I ask you to elaborate on that?" Brian asked, genuinely curious. 

Looking up, Thranduil said, "Everything you saw today...she has a fear of falling, and I am trying to school her out of it. It is not the first thing I have had to help her with. She is very brave; fearless even, and is already a formidable fighter...but there are so many twists in her mind by which she undoes her own potential."

"I could see that," said Brian. "All I can tell you is, if you haven't already figured it out, she was treated badly by an assortment of people, for most of her life. Not everyone could have survived the things she experienced. I worried about her making it, more than once. After Dennis, she was broken in a way that never really got fixed...until now. I'll be honest, I'm going to miss her like hell. But if where she is now, you can heal her from what her life has been here, then it's worth any price. I've only ever wanted her to be happy, and I've never seen her look at anyone the way she looks at you. Take care of my friend, Thranduil. I don't think I'm wrong in saying, you're her last chance."

The elf's eyes widened. "On this, you have my word. I would not say this to anyone else in my world, Brian, but she is my last chance as well. I would do anything for her. I believe that a large part of why I have been sent here is to understand how to better care for her. She is already not the person who came to me months ago, and yet I still barely understand an outline of who she is, inside. We each have much to learn yet, about the other, but we have the blessing of having all the time in the world in which to do it."

"I don't quite follow you, on that last part," said Brian, confused.

"When you asked about the Valar, she told you that Oromë and Vána appeared to us, but she did not mention what message they came to deliver. They brought us their gifts, powerful blessings. For me, Beren was changed, and granted immortality. He is now twice his former size, a hound of war and our protector. It was granted to Adonnenniel that she, Beren and I cannot be parted. We cannot die, in other words. Adonnenniel lives now without the fear of losing us. She is at the center of extraordinary happenings."

"Nope, can't process that one, either. But I am glad for her. Though, I can't understand it. I'm not even sure I'd want it. Forever is....a very, very long time."

"It is. But that is the life of our kind, and I can imagine nothing different."

"Well aren't you two deep in discussion," Nenni said, reappearing into their vicinity, smiling, seating herself  so as to use Thranduil as a backrest. 

"Oh we are just talking about light subjects, like immortality and relationships," quipped Brian. 

"Ah, that. It's a hard one, I'll grant you." The light changed, as the sun had set beyond the borders of the forest. "I'm afraid I won't be able to tell you, when I finally adjust to that reality. But I am grateful for it, and it is a weight off of my heart. But don't let me interrupt. Find something else to ask about Middle-Earth, Brian. I like those questions."

_Hîr vuin, if I can have the cheek to ask...my body is becoming very sore from today's exercise. Would you help me? I don't know if the remedies I used to use here are even safe for this body._

_Lie down, meleth, next to me, on your belly._

"Well," Brian said, "there are things I'd love to hear more about. Like, do you really ride on an elk, Thranduil?"

"Yes, I do," Thranduil said, smiling.

"Could you tell me how that happens, exactly? Because it's pretty much the coolest thing ever." 

Brian could not have chosen a better topic. "His name is Tálagor," Thranduil said, enthusiastically, "because he can run as the wind." He then began to narrate the entire history of Oropher's taming of the first elk, on through the assorted steeds he had befriended and who had agreed to serve him. It was a long and fascinating tale that quickly caused Nenni to lose what little ire she felt at hearing that the animal had a name, and that he had not told her. 

_You did not ask_ she heard, but she was too lost in the pleasure of his caresses on her tired muscles to mount a snarky reply. 

The stars were overhead, shining brightly. Looking up, Nenni said, yawning, "I would like very much for you to see our stars, but we are too surrounded by trees here." 

Thranduil said,"Then I have an idea. I am going to confiscate your bottle, so that both of you have a prayer of rising later. Rest and sleep here, now, and after some many hours I will wake you. We will leave the woods, and travel to where this is possible. I too wish to see this movement of the night sky, of which you told me."

Brian had already dozed off, and Nenni covered him with his blanket. When she resumed her position, he continue to gently knead her tired muscles. Mostly because he could sense, it felt unimaginably good to her. He liked to touch her, and it was no effort for him. In time, she was asleep, and he covered her with the remaining blanket. He very much desired to walk in this place more, under the moon and starlight. It had been so long, since his own forest had felt this healthy...he relished every minute in these woods, and would never forget them.

Nenni slept on for hours, comfortable and warm on her bed of soft mosses. She dreamed of Beren, of how she would nap on the sofa, to feel his warm, soft tongue licking her hand, wanting attention. Her hand twitched from the licking, and she smiled, reaching to fondle his muzzle. Her hand rested on something that did not seem the right shape, with fur that felt too different, at the same time a deep throated rumbling reached her ears. Waking in a panic, she opened her eyes to see that her hand indeed touched a muzzle, and that it was no dog. A massive black bear stood eye to eye with her. The outline was not easy to see perfectly from her vantage point, but this one looked to be over five hundred pounds. She froze, not knowing exactly what to do. Nothing in her mental preparations for an encounter had ever included the words "one foot away." She could scream, she could play dead, but either way, those deadly claws and teeth had her in a fully vulnerable position. 

_Thranduil, help me,_ she sent desperately. Though she already knew that if he'd been here, this animal would not be in its present location.  Could she reach out to the bear in her mind? She focused all her thought on the glittering eyes in front of her; she could feel its exhalations on her face. _Please, do not harm me. We have nothing for you, move away._  If it understood her, it wasn't in agreement with that, because the great animal reared up on its hind legs, bellowing aggressively. Nenni saw it was about to strike at her, and could think only of leading it away from Brian. She reeled as the blow raked her outstretched arm, the sharp claws cutting her to the bone. Anger welled within her, along with fear. She summoned her strongest voice, yelling at it forcefully, while slowly backing away. 

Incredibly, Brian did not wake, and all her thought was, _the tequila was good for something._  Nenni continued to draw the rather aggravated  animal away from her friend.   _What the hell are you supposed to do when it doesn't stop following you?_ she thought, her mind searching for solutions. It could climb, it could run as fast as she. A loose branch was beneath her feet, which she quickly picked up and hurled at it. This  bear apparently had declined to read the ranger's leaflets, because it bellowed at her, and charged. Reduced to panic and instinct, she saw a large tree near her, and started climbing. Before she could ascend high enough, she felt the claws rake down her calf, and she cried out from the pain of it.  

_To think I didn't want to climb the fucking tree earlier,_ she thought. _I am sorry, Hîr vuin, I do not think you had this in mind when you commanded me to obtain your consent._ She forced herself upward, not knowing if the bear was behind her or not. Stopping to briefly look down, she did not see it, but this tree had a wide girth. She climbed now so as to circle the tree, feeling her injured arm weaken. Still she did not see the bear, and she guessed she was about thirty feet up...and very stuck. There was no power remaining in her injured arm to grip as she would need to, for the descent; nor did she know if it was safe. _I do not wish to be mauled, she thought miserably._

_You will not be, meleth. Can you hang on for just a little while more?_

_I am doing my best, Hîr vuin, but it is becoming harder._ She turned inside herself, to concentrate on ignoring the pain and just doing what she could to hang on tightly. About the time she was uncertain she could hold out longer, he was next to her, supporting her body against the tree with his own. 

_Do not lose your focus, Adonnenniel. You must let go of the tree with your arms, and latch onto me. Then wrap your legs around my body.  You will not fall, I have you. You can do this, meleth, you have been very brave._ Taking a deep breath, she did as he asked, though she had to grip around him with the elbow of her damaged arm. Her hand had given its last, on the injured side. Finally, she was clinging to him and not the tree. _I am going to descend now, and it will feel like the same falling as earlier. Your only task is to hang onto me. Are you ready?_

She closed her eyes. _Yes, Hîr vuin._

He took the falls in quick succession, and in a matter of seconds they were on the ground. Nenni looked around, fearful. _Where is the bear?_

_It has gone, meleth. Adonnenniel, I am so sorry. I had not realized the danger from these, or I would not have left you._

_It is not your mistake,_ she sent, even as she began to sob in his arms. _Thank you, for coming. I am ...so afraid of them. This is all my fault, my stupidity. I do know the danger from these. We ate the food, and I did not think to find water to wash my hands. I must have smelled like a banquet, to the animal._

He blocked her pain, and soothed her, letting her cry until there was no more. When she quieted at last, he wiped her tears away with his fingers. 

_I saw what you did, meleth. You deserve to be told that you have more courage than fear. And this particular fear...I am not certain it is a  bad one to have._

_How did you make it go away?_

_I did not. It was moving off when I came to you. Its thoughts were of hunger, and anger. For whatever reason, it decided you were not worth further trouble. Come,_ he said as he picked her up to carry her. _We must return you to wholeness._

_Why is it always me?_

He chuckled. _I cannot answer that, except to say, at least you have me._

_It is more than_ at least _, Thranduil. I cannot remain intact, without you._

_Just as I am not whole without you, meleth,_ he sent, hugging her tightly to him.

He laid her on the bed of moss, and closed her wounds after rinsing them with some of the water. The injuries were deep, but there was nothing he could not knit back together. It took awhile, but was completed eventually. 

_How do you feel, Adonnenniel? Is there any lingering pain?_

_I am well now, Thranduil. Once again, I am deeply in your debt. Thank you. For everything._

Sitting up, she kissed him. Brian awoke, to see the soft glow of light on them as they embraced. 

"Hey you two, get a room," he said, rubbing his eyes. 

Nenni laughed. "Your timing is impeccable, Brian. We are just getting ready to bug out of here. Roll up that blanket while Thranduil gets the backpack. No more tequila for you, fat lot of help you were just now."

Brian slowly woke up, digesting that he had been chided, right around the time Thranduil returned. "I'm plenty of help," he said. "I find that insulting." 

"Well, you're plenty alive, and that's what matters," said Nenni.  

"Someone want to tell me what's going on here?" said Brian, miffed.

"Adonnenniel was attacked by a bear, Brian. She is very glad you slept through it, as am I. Her words are only teasing you."

"Get out. Seriously?"

"Yes. But you will both forgive me if right now, I do not wish to talk about it. Please, I want to leave here."  

Thranduil knelt down to take Brian, and they dashed off through the moonlit forest, returning to the car in a little more than the same time it took to arrive.

Once there, Nenni said simply, "The Eel river is but a few hundred feet to our west, and there are no trees in the river. Or, we drive a few miles south, to Myers. It is the latter we should choose, for the most unobstructed view of the sky. We can walk up the river, which is even wider at that place, and there should be no manner of lights there."

She found her car keys, and got in. She would dearly have loved not to drive right now, as she was still badly shaken. But Brian was...not in suitable condition, nor would he be before more hours and several cups of coffee had elapsed. 

_Get him in the back seat, please, Thranduil. He might just fall asleep  on us._ Truthfully, Brian had found the early morning ride on the elf more lulling than anything else, given how relaxed and happy he'd been. He would miss this. It was fun, to be carried around like this. It reminded him of being a small boy long ago. Except, his father had not smelled of lavender and cedar, but some things had to be overlooked.

They departed for Myers. Thranduil watched Nenni as she drove, feeling that her agitation was returning. When he saw the glint of tears on her cheeks, in the faint light, he reached his hand to her shoulder.

_Meleth. I do not wish you to suffer from what happened. Do you wish me to soften your memory, as I did when the Orc came?_

_I am not certain, Hîr vuin. I wish I could understand more, why I feel this way. You are with me, and yet I feel....unsafe. I wish I knew what I did wrong, aside from not washing the food scent from my hands. I tried...to talk to it, in its mind, and that is when all hell broke loose. I know what to do when bears come, but I had no plan for waking up staring into the face of one. I made the whole thing up as I went along, and I feel like every choice was a bad one. I have always feared being attacked by a wild animal, and now this. I should stay out of the water, at the rate I am going the sharks will come_ , she thought miserably.

They were already at Myers, and exited over to the River Road, to park. Brian was sound asleep in back, leaning against the folded blanket they tucked around him. Nenni elected to lock him in and not wake him. She did text him where they were and what they were doing, though, in the unlikely event he roused himself. And on a second thought, she scribbled a brief, dated note to leave on the dash. Their greatest chance of possibly attracting the attention of law enforcement was with this; being in a strange community at odd hours. Taking Thranduil's hand, she checked their bandanas and took his hand, leading him to the south fork of the river. She had brought the remaining blanket, and after they waded through what passed for the river at this dry time of year, she spread the blanket out on a sandbar. Laying down, the night sky blazed overhead. Myers had few enough lights, to interfere with their viewing. She took out her phone, and opened Google sky, showing him how it lined up to explain the constellations. In the east, she showed him Memelmacar, that she called Orion, just rising. And the names of the constellations she knew, and the red planet glowing steadily.

"Hold your fist out to your arms' reach, she said, and place it just on the treeline. Look where Menelmacar is now. She showed him next the polestar. "It is slow, but as the hours pass, you will see all these stars circle the polestar. Great poets used to call the motion of the heavens the Music of the Spheres."

_It is beautiful, meleth. I am glad to look upon this._

_Indeed_ was what she spoke, but her body only wanted the comfort of being close to him, as she lay in the crook of his arm. Her thoughts grew dark, again. 

_Please, meleth, allow me help you,_ he said wistfully. There was a long pause.

_Yes, Hîr vuin. As you did before. I give my consent._ He turned his body to look in her eyes, blocking the stars for a moment. She knew to look at him, without being asked, as his hand came to her face. In a matter of moments, the weight lifted from her mind.

_Thank you, Thranduil._

He kissed her cheek tenderly, before resuming his stargazing. They watched until the twilight made the exercise somewhat pointless, and they heard the sounds of activity in the distance. Rising, they folded the blanket. Thranduil looked at her, taken aback. "Meleth, to walk back to the car, perhaps you should keep the blanket around you, in case we are seen. Looking down, she realized there was blood on her clothing. Quite a lot of it. And the leg of her jeans was torn. Nenni tried to think. The river was right here, yet she could not exactly strip and wash clothes here. She elected to roll up the sound leg on her jeans, and submerge the other until she could rub the bloodstains out of it. It did not take long, to remove the worst of them, and then it was impossible to say what the stain was from. Wringing out the fabric as best she could, she left it alone.  Replacing her shoes on the other side of the river, she walked back to the car with the blanket as suggested. Arriving, she rooted through her bag to get a clean shirt, asking Thranduil to hold the blanket up to afford her privacy. Finally, she was a little more presentable. With Brian still sleeping, she elected to make for Shelter Cove. It would be later by then, to have breakfast.

******

The sun rose and was well in the sky while they navigated the winding and slower road out to the Lost Coast. Nenni explained to Thranduil _there are more woods we may walk in here, that we will pass through as we descend to the coast._ _I hope you will not mind that I chose to come here. It is one of my favorite places, ever; lonely and beautiful. And small. I have wished for a long time to see it again, and never did. I think we can rent a place to stay, to ensure Brian will have someplace to sleep and be refreshed, after we...depart. We have less than twelve hours, now._

_If you like it, meleth, I will as well. The forest yesterday was more than I could have ever hoped to experience. Our time here should not only be to please me._ She reached over, to squeeze his hand.

Thranduil watched the scenery open up in front of him, as they descended the winding road. _I can see it is beautiful, meleth. A small piece of land, isolated, with the ocean all around._

At last, they made their way to one of the excellent coffee shops. "Time to rouse Sleeping Beauty", she said to Thranduil. He was sure this was a reference they would have to discuss later on.

"Brian?" Thranduil gently shook his knee. Blinking, the man opened his eyes. 

"We left Kansas, Brian. Time to say good morning to Oz. Let's get some coffee in you." They ordered food and found somewhere to sit outside; it was a beautiful morning.  

Brian excused himself to use the washroom, and returned. "Um, where are we?" he asked.

Nenni and Thranduil both laughed at him. "We are in Shelter Cove, Brian. Our last stop. Once we get refreshed here, I am going to try and find the fastest way to rent a place to stay for the day. It would be nice to have a base, and, I want you to promise me you will just get a sensible night's sleep here before you go...onward...tomorrow. You hit the bottle with good effort last night, and I don't want you driving before you are entirely recovered," she teased. 

"Uh, yeah. And now that I might be awake, am I imagining that something came up about a bear last night? "

"No, you aren't. See?" she stood and showed him the wreckage of her jeans leg. "He took out my arm, too. But as usual, I am in good hands, so, no harm done. But, a lesson. If you're going to eat takeout for dinner with your bare hands, better damn well spare a little water to wash them with before sleeping in the middle of the woods. I woke up dreaming that Beren was licking me, and it all went bad from there."

Brian looked at her before dissolving into laughter. "I don't ever want to hear another word about Life With Brian. You have taken it over, I'll send the wall plaque to the Palace when I can find a big enough stamp."

Nenni looked chagrined. "Not that much happens to me, I really don't think that's fair." 

Thranduil's eyebrows raised. "Meleth, the accident that brought you to my forest, two orc patrols, an attack in our chambers, cracking your skull during sparring, your headaches, running through a snowstorm, all the mischief in your garden, and we won't even discuss what happened when you healed my injuries, and you think not much happens to you? In the short time you have been with me, you have required more healing than Legolas did in the first hundred years of his life."

Nenni looked at Thranduil, opening her mouth, but no sound came out. Brian was now laughing even harder, and gave Thranduil another fist bump. "Will you two _stop_ _that_?" she said, exasperated.  They looked at each other, and in tandem shook their heads No, smiling. 

The server chose that moment to bring out their coffees and the pastries they'd chosen, which allowed Nenni to suddenly become deeply occupied in slicing her muffin into sections, for no reason in particular, while she tried to will the pinkness from her cheeks. She ate in silence, while Thranduil asked Brian about assorted particulars of his life. Excusing herself, she went to get more coffee, and also to get the best recommendation from the shop owner for lodging, when she explained that they were on an unusual schedule; desiring access to cleaning up for three, but that only one would spend the night, and they were happy to pay for the extra use of a facility. The kind lady made a phone call for Nenni, and provided her an address. "Give them an hour and a half, and they will be ready for you." Thanking her, and paying their bill, she verified that her shop was open for lunch as well. 

Returning with her coffee, she sat down, looking at both of them levelly. "For your information, Thranduil, almost all of those things were _not my fault,"_ she said, leaning in to glare at him. She then leaned back, sipping her coffee, daring either one of them to utter a word to the contrary. Feeling vindicated by their wide eyed stares, she then excused herself to use the restroom. 

After she was safely out of earshot, Brian said to Thranduil, "I don't know how it is with elves, but here, most men know there is a time to let your wife believe she's won. I believe, my friend, you just chose very wisely."

"As do I," said Thranduil. "Do you know, she has never spoken to me like that before?" 

Brian raised his eyebrows. "If that is true, King or not, she loves you more than I guessed... and I guessed quite a lot. Use it wisely, Thranduil. You've got quite a catch, there."

"Don't I know it...." Thranduil trailed off. 

Returning, Nenni sat down as though nothing had ever happened, and finished her coffee. She had checked the tide tables on her phone. "Well, it is almost low tide. Who wants to see the tidepools?"

They drove to the access point to the pools, and she took Thranduil's hand to help balance her on the slippery rocks. Brian already was clicking away with his camera. She showed him how to crouch down, to see the marine life, and how to place his hands in the water to touch and feel them. The starfish astonished him, as did the urchins. Everything she explained to him, how they lived, their role in the ecology of the coastal ocean. "Meleth, this is marvelous. Thank you for bringing me here." 

"If we had more time, I would show you the hours and hours of wonderful programs about what exists here. I would give much to show you a whale, a giant squid, a shark. The ocean is a vast and filled with wonders. But at least much of that is in my mind. I guess we will have time" she said, smiling. They lingered for some hours, after which they secured their lodging. 

Borrowing a pair of scissors from the proprietor, they entered their room in the Inn. She insisted that Brian clean up, and enjoy his shower first. 

When it was their turn, she hauled Thranduil in with her, commanding "Behave yourself and wash up." Nenni scrubbed his back with the pleasantly scented soap, and he returned the favor as she held her long hair out of the way. With everyone dry and in cleaner clothes, they felt considerably restored. Nenni took the scissors to her torn jeans, cutting away the damaged fabric, and that of the other leg to match. With the cuffs rolled up, they looked much nicer. 

"So, they way I see it, there is a beach, an even better beach, the forest back up the hill, and a place to eat lunch. And about nine hours. 

Brian said, "I vote forest, beach, lunch, and better beach." They all nodded in agreement. 

They had a wonderful day; walking, appreciating, eating, talking, and laughing. When six o'clock  rolled around, they were well down the stunning black sand beach, dotted with occasional bits of glass. Passing a sign that read, "DANGER. Strong backwash. Sleeper waves. Rip currents. Surf unsafe. No Lifeguard" Nenni stopped. _Thranduil, help me please. We are almost out of time, and should say our goodbyes._ She felt him squeeze her hand, and his calm descend over her emotions. 

Nenni took a deep breath. "Brian, as you may have guessed, this was my destination because of what I know about this beach," she said, pointing at the sign. "We are alone here. All you have to say is that we were doing whatever near the surf, and that we were taken out to sea. I would explain Thranduil as having been named Randall, that you just met your friend's new boyfriend, and that you don't even know his last name. Which is probably true, now that I think about it. Anyway, our time is almost up. I think we should make our farewells. I don't want to be standing right next to you when this happens...I will always wonder if it is why Beren ended up with me, if he was in the wrong place at the wrong time." She removed her bandana, and placed her cell phone and car keys inside of it, tying it into a bundle.

Embracing Brian, Nenni said, "I will always love you, and will never forget you. You will be in my heart until time itself ends. Goodbye." Thranduil or no Thranduil, tears were streaming down her cheeks. It was a bitter parting, for her. 

Thranduil looked at Nenni, and said, "Would you let me speak to him privately?" Nodding, Nenni turned and walked toward the surf, hoping the sound of the crashing waves would do something to drown the pain in her heart. 

"Brian, it was a privilege to know you." He held his arms open to his new friend, embracing him. Brian returned the embrace, and found himself held tightly, while Thranduil uttered words he could not understand. Not knowing why, Brian relaxed into his arms, and let him finish. When Thranduil released him, he looked at him intently. "Listen to me carefully, and remember. Live your life here to the fullest, and enjoy it. But should you ever find that a time comes when there is nothing more to keep you here, pray to the Valar, to be brought to us. We will gladly care for you, if it is permitted. I cannot promise you that this will happen; but they are kind, and hear the pleas of their children. I have already asked this of them, should it come to pass. They will not forget. Adonnenniel does not know of this...it is better for her, this way. She suffers much, from her feelings. Whether or not we meet again, Brian, go with my blessing." Thranduil kissed him on his forehead, and then released him. Smiling, Thranduil handed over his own bandana as well, and moved off to join his wife.

Brian watched, with a heavy heart, as the two of them walked slowly down the deserted beach. They did not look back. There came a moment when they stopped, and Thranduil stood behind her, wrapping her in his arms. A blaze of light formed around them, and then they were no more. He sat and watched the surf for a long while, until the incoming tide forced him to leave.

He would need a very, very long time to sort out these last three days. But first, he needed to dial 911. Sighing, he placed the call.


	21. Decompression

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rhiw 30, Imladris, December 23, Gregorian]

When day broke, Nenni heard the storm outside their chambers still raging; but moreover, she felt a sense of deep displacement, and fatigue. Thranduil's arm held her securely, and she nestled back against his warmth. She had dreamed, so vividly, of being on Earth again, but... _that was nuts_ , she thought. Except, she began to realize, her garments were not right. Carefully, she squirmed out from under his arm, to emerge from the covers and see she was wearing...jeans and a t shirt. _The dream had been real._  The chambers were very cool, but she wanted these clothes off, at once. There was sadness, and anger, and denial, and right now they were a reminder of what she did not wish to remember or admit to herself. Folding them neatly, she tucked them away in what she hoped were the most private drawers of her own chamber. The memories were coming back to her, and she felt herself sinking into unhappiness. Entering the pool, she did not care if her hair became soaked. Sinking under the water, she tried to stop the tears that had been stopped for her, a world away. Her failure was complete. 

Crying underwater earned her accidentally inhaling the water; and consequently, spluttering and coughing violently. Before she was done clearing her airway, she felt strong arms around her. "Hîr vuin, it hurts, to have been parted," she cried into his chest.

"I know, meleth," he said, soothing her. "I will not let you go." He rubbed her back, while tears flowed on and off. His touches and the steady beat of his heart helped calm her, and eventually she composed herself somewhat. 

Finally sitting up, but not looking at him, she began to detach herself from her heartache. "I know there are duties today. But might I ask to eat breakfast here, and not in the Hall this morning, please?"

 _Of course, Adonnenniel. Please, stay in the water. Allow me to make you more comfortable._ Leaving the pool, he dried and donned a robe, brought her tea, and rang for breakfast. Next, he revived the fire. Watching him, her eyes dulled from crying, she thought once again, _why do they not use wood stoves?_

"It is because they are unknown here, meleth. Though after seeing yours, I am certainly intrigued."

_They generate more heat, with far less fuel. Much more efficient. However, it being that we live in a forest, perhaps fuel is not of such a great concern._

She could honestly care less about wood stoves just now. The inane conversation was her mind's way of reaching to think about something other than her own difficult feelings.

He retrieved a warm robe for her, and readied a towel. "Come to me, meleth," he said, holding the towel for her. Drying her quickly, he wrapped her in her robe, and seated her near the fire. Her sodden braid trickled a steady stream of water onto the stone floor. She did not seem to notice. He undid the tangle of her hair, drying it as he worked.  The tongues of flame in the fireplace made patterns and danced, and her eyes followed these. It kept her from thinking, and this seemed like an improvement, over the alternative. Lamentably, it did not still her mind for long. 

 _You're going to have to get over it. Again. It wasn't your choice, but it happened, and look at what you were able to do for him. And maybe even your husband. Brian would want you to be happy_ , the Little Voice reminded her. 

 _Do you have any idea how tiring it is to always be told what I have to do? Do you think I don't know that?_ she thought sourly, embroiled in another internal argument.

 _You are not always being told what to do_ , the Little Voice said. 

 _I hate you_ , said Nenni, _and I want an Off switch._

Smugly the Little Voice retorted _, You only hate being told what you do not wish to hear, when you do not wish to hear it. And, too bad._

She buried her face her hands. Thranduil was very close to intervening, with or without permission. He hated to see her distressed like this, and these internal bickerings rarely occurred when she was otherwise. 

Nenni lowered her hands, becoming angry with herself. _Enough of this. It serves no purpose, and you have obligations._ A decisive stubbornness rushed to the surface, cementing her will against further allowance of grief.

"Hîr vuin, may I go retrieve my tea?"

Thranduil was astonished at this shift, and how quickly she could go from a puddle of misery to nearly impervious.  _Her mind is so sensitive, and so powerful, all at the same time_ , he reflected. "Let me, meleth, please stay here."

As he handed her the cup, she took his hand. "Thank you, Thranduil, for your kindness to me. I deeply appreciate it." 

_I love you, Adonnenniel. You are welcome. I will care for your hair, and find you something to wear._

Thranduil combed her nearly dried hair, adding in only two very simple loose plaits, and retrieved a gown for her. This one was of mixed browns and greens, forest colors. She had not noticed this one before, and liked it very much. He added her ivy necklace, and placed her crown on her head. 

"You look lovely, meleth,  he said, kissing her forehead. "Please excuse me while I dress."

Thranduil had awoken with much less disconnect than Nenni.  Unlike her, he did not have a lifetime of memories of Earth over which to feel a sense of loss. There was much he wished to discuss with her, but from the moment he opened his eyes, he felt her torment. It would have to wait, until her feelings had settled and the distress was not so near. He thought of Brian, wondering if he'd ever see him again. He'd enjoyed, so very much, the feeling of camaraderie. It had not mattered to him, that he was human. And yet, should it ever happen that Brian arrived here, it would certainly be...different. On Earth, he was just Thranduil. Here, he was King. Idly, he thought of how interesting it might be, to have an advisor who knew nothing of his world, just for perspective.

Selecting a tunic, breeches, boots and robe, he attired himself, and was almost ready to leave when he caught sight of the stack of objects on a small table that occupied an alcove inside the room. His plea had been granted; all of Nenni's seeds and musical instruments had been returned here. His eyes opened wide, and he immediately knelt and offered sincere thanks for the kindness of the Valar.

The impulse to tell her of this blessing was immediately tempered by his fears for her ability to navigate the day. Surely no one could fault him for delaying? He hesitated to keep her own things from her, but he also had larger plans. He wished for his instrument makers to replicate these; they would need to  possess them, for a time, to examine them and make their notes. _But the seeds, surely she would be eager to work with them? And what if they took harm from the delay?_ He could hardly withhold the instruments while offering her the seeds. Sighing, he concluded that the honorable thing to do would be to wait until after their duties were completed, and tell her then. It would be unlike her, to be unwilling to let them be studied. He hoped having these possessions would lighten her spirits. Glancing back at the modest pile, he smiled. He could still keep his biggest plan a secret, a surprise. It would take time, but she would have her piano.

Thranduil returned to the main chamber, to see Nenni in pleasant conversation with Galion, as he laid out their table. "I wish to offer congratulations, Hiril vuin, on your rulership. I am very pleased to serve you, as you serve our King." 

"Thank you, Galion," she replied softly. "I will endeavor to give my best. I wish to be...someone approachable. I hope, should any need ever arise, that you would always feel free to speak to me regarding anything of concern. I am here to serve, more than be served. Your many kindnesses to us are appreciated and acknowledged."

"Hiril vuin." Galion, having finished his task, withdrew with a bow.

Thranduil had held back, not wishing to interrupt their short exchange. He held her chair for her, and served her her meal. Seeing that her appetite appeared intact did more to reassure him of her state of mind than his overhearing her internal discussions.

Nenni smiled. "You are very observant, Hîr vuin. I have never been able to eat when I am too anxious or agitated. The thought of food at such times makes me feel ill." She paused. "I thank you, for your concern. I know there is much you may wish to discuss. If I may have just a little more time, I will be able." She paused. "May I please have a small amount of your wine?"

He wordlessly pushed his goblet  over to her, uncertain how to respond to her comments about herself. Or perhaps, _afraid to say the wrong thing_ , would be a better description.

Taking a sip, she sighed. "One of the great difficulties of being a person who carries emotional burdens is that we vacillate between needing extensive consideration, and needing nothing at all. Those close to us, understandably, cannot keep up with the ground underneath them constantly shifting. A fear of speaking openly develops, lest poorly chosen words trigger the next tempest. And we know it. I know it. Even if I could not read your thoughts, I can see your expression; it is one I know well. I am sorry, Thranduil, that this part of me has become your hardship also. What happened to us was a challenge for which I was not prepared. I will recover soon enough. Throughout this experience, you were everything I could have wished for, and more. You need not fear my shortcomings. Though, I place no blame on you if you cannot believe me." Taking one more sip, she pushed the goblet back toward him. "Thank you, for the wine," she said. "May I be excused?"

He inclined his head to her, and she gracefully rose from her chair, making for the garden. "Beren, come," she said, leaving the doors open for the groggy hound to follow her in his own time. Entering the garden from the passageway door, she took five steps before a compulsion to remove her shoes overcame her. The mere feel of this space was like a balm to her spirit. Though she was no longer hungry, she cracked and ate a few almonds, tasting their crisp sweetness. Drifting to the worktable to find her shears, she went to the bower to cut several of the golden flowers of Vána. She placed them at intervals; the beginning of a pathway that would be lit at night with their soft glow. As she asked them to grow, she felt the magic in the garden move through her, and her lingering sadness was banished. To no one in particular, she whispered,"My heart lies here, and nowhere else."

Cutting some colorful flowers and greenery, she watched as Beren finally managed to arrive, lifting his leg onto some of her favorite orange calendula. She chuckled. "Nowhere else." 

Replacing her slippers, she entered the passageway and returned, arranging the blossoms in a vase. Thranduil found her, staring at the room, trying to decide where to place them. "May I?" he said, holding out his hands for the vase. Nenni handed it over. It was, after all, his vase. He set the arrangement down on the stone table near the balcony doors, where they provided a cheerful contrast to the swirling snow outside. He reordered a few blossoms, which she grudgingly had to admit gave the display a better visual balance. Thoughts about how someone so masculine could do so many things associated with human femininity, so incredibly well, were not allowed to reach anywhere near her mental surface.

He took up his crown from his resting place, setting it on his head. "It is nearly time, Adonnenniel, for audiences. I am choosing to expand them somewhat, for a time, to make up for my recent neglect of this duty. "

She inclined her head to him. "When we finish, may we visit Rhistel in the Healing Halls, briefly?"

Thranduil felt vaguely astonished, and chagrined. _After the experience they'd both had,  she remembered...and he had not._  

Touching him on the arm, she said softly, "Fun will do that to a person, i Aran nîn. Do not find fault with yourself."

He looked down at her, a query in his eyes. "Did you not...enjoy yourself, Adonnenniel?" he asked, tentatively. He remained unconvinced, that this topic floated in safe waters.

"I did, Hîr vuin, but not in the same way as you. I felt a weight of responsibility there, for you, and the shadow of loss. As the time passed, I gained some inkling of what you have carried here, every day, for such a long time. I do not begrudge you a single carefree moment. And, I am ready to depart when you wish." 

He held out his arm to her, and they walked to Thranduil's Hall. Nenni saw a modestly large number of elves assembled, awaiting their arrival. _Ascend to your place, and mind your skirts on the steps. Wait, so that both of us sit at the same time. They will bow, once we are on our thrones. Only incline your head to them._

_Athon, i Aran nîn.(I will, my King)_

It would have been hard to accept this even six months ago, but she found herself experiencing a concept that must have governed many a human on earth. _I know who I am here, I know what is expected of me I know where I ...fit._

 _Wonderful_ , said the Little Voice. _Second day on the job and you're already embracing Feudalism?_

 _Oh, shut it._ Nenni forced her mind to blankness, before she could manage to aggravate her King. Had she dared look at him, she might have seen the barely perceptible smile forming at the corners of his mouth.

In the intervals between when the petitioners knelt, and spoke, Thranduil instructed her. _I listen, and I ask questions if there is need. Especially if I have any sense that any are trying to deceive me; this is widely known to be unwise, but does not entirely eradicate the problem. Judgements that are simple can be pronounced at once. Complex matters, I will allow myself time to consider or find more information. It is unusual to delay arriving at a decision past three days._

After granting food and clothing to aid an outlying settlement, he continued.

_You have the authority to ask questions of them, and judge, as well. There will come a time when you can and will undertake this function alone if the need arises. Do you see the ellon below and to the right, writing?_

_Yes, Hîr vuin._

_That is Maethirion. He records and catalogs these proceedings. His services can be invaluable for judgements requiring further consideration, or for the details of similar cases from the past. Should you ever have to carry on in my absence, he can aid you. I will introduce you formally, afterward._

The last petitioner caught Nenni's eye. _It is the miller, Arandorion_  she sent. _He is a very kind ellon._ Kneeling to them, he begged for aid to repair his mill and granary. He reported an orc attack, in which these had been set aflame. A sense of cold fury entered Nenni.

To Thranduil's great surprise, Nenni spoke, kindly: "Arandorion. How many bushels of grain were destroyed?" 

The farmer looked up in surprise. "Almost seven hundred and fifty, Hiril vuin." 

"And the milling and storage of this would have been a goodly portion of your winter labor, would it not?"

"Yes, Hiril vuin." The miller nodded, completely taken aback. _How did the new Queen know him, and all these things?_

Nenni sensed his disconnect. "Arandorion, perhaps you do not recall me, exactly, as my appearance has changed. I am the elleth Prince Legolas brought to visit with you, and your wife, in the early autumn. Please, describe the damage to the water mill."

As she watched Maethirion diligently record every detail, Arandorion detailed the loss of several of the intricate carven gears. These would be difficult for him to replace on his own, as well as some of the heavy fabric belts powering the flour screens, and the siding of the building. Fortunately, they had been able to extinguish the flames before truly extensive damage could be done.

"And the attackers themselves? What were their numbers, and how were they defeated?" asked Thranduil.

The first smile crept over Arandorion's face.  "My wife, Beriadhwen, my Lord. It is she who scythes much of our grain. She had been tending to this tool at the time of the attack. They came foremost, to burn and destroy. It went...badly for them, once my elleth found them. There were only six. But the fire did its damage, nonetheless."

 _What would you do, Adonnenniel?_ Thranduil asked.

_I would point out that the lost of that many bushels of flour is not insignificant. He cannot work until he is aided, and the loss of his production is a loss for all...most of his flour is sent to supply this Palace. The woodwork in his mill is complex, requiring  skilled fabrication. Once his machinery is restored, his grain must be replaced. He must at the very least be cared for here, until it is safe to return to his farm._

Surprising the King a second time, Nenni asked Arandorion, "Do you have the means with you, to instruct the woodcrafters in the replication of the damaged components of the mill?"

"Yes, Hiril vuin, I have detailed drawings and lists prepared of what is required to restore operation. I have some of the skill to craft the pieces, but lack the prepared lumber and some of the tools by which to be efficient."

_This is your decision, Adonnenniel. I will support you._

"Arandorion, by what means did you travel here? And is Beriadhwen safe and well?" Nenni asked.

"On foot, Hiril vuin; and yes, she is."

Nenni smiled. "You will be provided with all you require, Arandorion, and will be our guest until your fabrications are completed. An armed escort will see you home, with your materials, when it is possible to travel. While here, you may join the woodcrafters, to help speed the work. When your repairs are completed, you will send us notice. Your lost grain will be replaced, so that your output does not suffer."

Arandorion looked up, his face shining with happiness. "Len hannon, i Bereth nîn, i Aran nîn. We are deeply grateful for your aid, and generosity."

"There is one more thing. You will join us for the evening meal, in our chambers.  There is much else I wish to discuss with you. Our steward will provide for you, and see that you are directed at the proper time."

Arandorion bowed, and retreated. Keeping his eyes lowered made it impossible to see that both of them were approximately the size of dinner plates.

In a matter of minutes, all but the guards and Maethirion had dispersed; the recorder was still completing his notes. Thranduil descended the steps, holding his hand out to Adonnenniel at the bottom. He noticed that she again used the strange crossover step, but this time far slower and with surprising dignity. It was actually difficult to detect, had he not seen it done at speed the first time. Nenni took his hand, gladly.

The King spoke. "Maethirion, I wish to formally introduce you to the Queen, Adonnenniel. I think it is safe to say that you have seen her, but she has not seen you." 

His words said, "Hiril vuin, I am honored," as he bowed. But his eyes did not match. She kept her expression gentle and kind, but did not fail to notice that something was amiss in his demeanor. What felt like hostility radiated from him. Marthirion's expression was so carefully schooled, that most might miss it. 

Nenni inclined her head to him, and then met his eyes, considering him for a moment. Acting on a hunch, she said, "I am pleased to know you, Maethirion. Where I am from, those of your occupation were held in highest honor, second only to royalty. It would please me greatly, to learn more of you. Perhaps I could prevail on you, to join us for our evening meal tomorrow?"  

Her arrow had struck home. The negativity vanished, replaced by a glint of eagerness. "I accept your gracious offer, Hiril vuin, Hîr vuin." He bowed, and withdrew. 

When Maethirion was a safe distance removed, Nenni sighed, audibly.   _Sometimes you have to take one for the team,_ she thought. Raising her head to look at Thranduil, she smiled and said, "To the healing halls, Hîr vuin?"

He led her away, desperately wanting to ask her what all that had been about, but not wishing to disturb her frame of mind. It would wait until after this visit. As they walked, she tilted her head, to rest it against his upper arm. Thranduil found the gesture of extra affection endearing, and drew her closer, placing his arm around her shoulder, and offered her his opposite hand to hold. The few that saw them walking were moved by their obvious closeness. It may have been wintertime, but they could see that spring had come to the  heart of their King.

When they approached, Nenni saw that Rhistel's flowers had been given a vase, and placed nearby, so he could see them. He appeared to be in far better spirits, today. When he caught sight of them, his lips smiled modestly, but his eyes shone. He tried to sit up, but this time it was Thranduil that hurried to him, gently pushing him back down. "Do not try to sit up, Rhistel, though I thank you for the gesture," the King said. 

Nenni went to the opposite side, sitting next to him, and once again took his hand in her own. "You are feeling better today, my brave friend?" she asked, smiling gently.

"Yes, Hiril vuin." He paused. "Thank you...." she stopped him, placing a finger across his lips. "There is no need to thank me, Rhistel. It is we who thank you. But if you feel able, I should greatly like to hear your story for myself. Where was your patrol? Tell me everything." 

_Lay your hand on his shoulder, very softly, Hîr vuin._

Rhistel's eyes filled with eagerness, and he complied. Nenni had taken a calculated guess that his telling of his tale would spark the determination that all with a courageous heart possessed.  Not to mention, there were details she hoped to glean from his report. She listened to all his words, with careful attention. "Rhistel, did you notice a symbol of a crude white hand on the orcs? Either their armor, or their skin?" The young warrior thought carefully. "Yes, Hiril vuin. Now that you mention it, I do recall such a device, on at least some of them." 

"Thank you, for telling me these things. Have the Healers said how long they expect your recovery to require?" 

"They said at least another week, Hiril vuin." 

Nenni frowned. "Is there anything that would make this time pass easier for you?" 

Rhistel smiled. "You have already given it, Hiril vuin. The flowers are of surpassing beauty. I have never seen the like. My....mother grew flowers, and kept them in our home."

Nenni laughed merrily. "Then in honor of your mother, I shall ensure you do not lack for them in your time here, my  warrior. It is what she would wish. Rest now," she said, kissing him on the forehead as she squeezed his hand and released it. 

Smiling, he only now seemed to notice the hand of his King on his shoulder. "Hîr vuin, thank you for your kindness. Soon I will return to my duties."

"I do not doubt it, young ellon. Rest now, sleep if you can," said the King, gently withdrawing his hand. Thranduil offered his arm to his Queen, and they departed. Nenni was pondering the nature of Rhistel's injuries, as they returned to their rooms. 

"You are wondering," Thranduil asked, "why I do not heal him, rather than leave him to a slow convalescence?"

Nenni shook her head. "No, I think I can guess why not. I was more...appreciating all that you have done for me, and how fortunate I have been."

"And what is it you guess?" he asked. 

Nenni glanced up at him. "I may be wrong, but I believe you do not heal others fully because...it is an act of intimacy. It forges a connection between yourself and those you heal, one that you will not willingly create except at great need. That is why you do this only to save them; bring them back from death. You heal what you must, to ensure that they will live, but no more." 

She continued, her voice dropping near to a whisper. "And then, there was me. I was bound to you much sooner than I originally believed, wasn't I? It must have been very difficult for you, those first weeks I was here. I am so sorry, for that." 

He stopped walking, raising her chin so that she had to look at him. He frowned. "How did you know these things? I too, can bury my thoughts."

"I did not mine through your memories, Hîr vuin, if that is what you are asking me. It is suddenly...obvious. I am not accusing you of anything untoward. But I can now see, that when you healed me the second time, you made a conscious choice. You opened your heart to me. There was no need to heal me yourself; yet you chose to, knowing what connection would be forged. I...honor the risk you took; the vulnerability, in which you placed yourself.  I had originally thought that I was the only one who had taken a leap of faith, and now I see that it was not so. I have...never been loved, in the way that you love me." 

She looked down, rubbing at the back of her sore neck. There had been too much craning her head up, to look at him. "Hîr vuin, you are entirely too tall", she said, softly.

"Is this better?" he asked, bringing her into his arms. 

"Always," she said, kissing him on the cheek. "Except, your crown is a menace. Perhaps I should walk, until I am no longer at risk from this imposing construct. It requires taming."

He laughed, but realized she spoke truly, and set her down, offering his arm again. Soon they had returned to their chambers, where the first thing she did was remove her crown. Followed swiftly by procuring herself a goblet of water. Thranduil placed his own crown beside hers. "May I offer you any refreshment, Hîr vuin?" she asked.

"Thank you, no", he replied, coaxing the fire back to life.  Removing her slippers with her toes, she placed her feet carefully on edge of the table, near the vase of flowers, then slumped pleasantly into the cushions of the stone bench. Balancing her goblet on her belly, she watched the snow fall, drinking occasionally.

He approached her. "May I sit?" 

Nenni giggled. "That is the silliest question I have heard all day, beloved. As if I was not eagerly awaiting your being near me."

Settling himself, he said "Only you, Adonnenniel, can use twenty two words when a simple 'yes' would suffice." 

She giggled again. "I suppose there is accuracy, if not merit, in that observation. Anyone can say 'yes', Thranduil. It takes imagination to, as you say, use twenty two words."

He placed his arm around her. "May we talk, Adonnenniel?" he asked softly.

"We are already talking, Hîr vuin. But I will stop being difficult, now." Her voice shed its humor. "I am listening, Thranduil."

"There are some things I would like explained. Starting with, why is it that we now have dinner engagements two nights in a row? That was unexpected, from you. I am not displeased," he hastened to add. "I only wish to understand."

Nestling closer to him, she replied. "The first is for the exact reasons I said aloud in your Hall. He is a kind and wonderful ellon with whom  I can discuss farming and grains and milling. There was genuinely much I did not ask him, the day we met. I would know more. I wish to also honor his skill and his hard work by inviting him here. If I have my druthers, probably the laundresses will dine with us in our chambers, sooner or later. I do not hold with any notion that an invitation for fellowship with us somehow has to be only for generals and nobles. I am certain you will tell me someday, what qualifies these nobles to be ....noble. I mean no disrespect to you, or them. I  believe that the contribution of even the lowliest worker in your Realm deserves acknowledgement and honor. Especially such a fine subject of your Realm,  dedicated to his work and his service to you. If you feel otherwise, you should tell me now." She turned to look at him, in case she had erred. 

"I do not disagree," he said. "I am only unaccustomed to the idea."

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"The second invitation, that was on instinct. When you introduced me to your recorder, scribe, whatever he is, I felt a strong undercurrent of resentment. Hostility. I'm not sure exactly. I had a hunch, that he felt slighted, or that he felt  my sudden ascension was some kind of affront. Sometimes I sense emotions from others, but I cannot know the exact thoughts behind them. I acted on a guess that flattery, and paying him some desired attention, might go far toward altering his demeanor. I do not think I missed my mark by much, as his behavior changed completely after I invited him. I was not lying; I sincerely would like to hear more of what he does in your service. It is a small price to pay, to earn an ally and not an enemy."

Thranduil stood up. "Pardon me then, for a moment. I will inform Galion of these arrangements. The more time he has to prepare, the happier he is."

"Of course," she said. "And thank you. I sort of forgot about that rather important detail. Please remind Galion that Arandorian likely needs to be provided with suitable clothing. I do not wish him to feel embarrassed; no farmer I know keeps any finery." 

He hastily wrote instructions to the steward, and reoccupied his seat.

"In the future, Thranduil, do you wish me to consult with you before issuing invitations? I am afraid I took your willingness to support me, and ran with it. If I overstepped, please tell me. This is your home." 

"Adonnenniel, this is OUR home. And the answer is, you are free to do as you please, in this regard. But when it occurs to you, yes, I would like to be asked. I recognize there are times when it will not be practical to discuss it with me first, and vice versa. Both invitations fall into this category. But I would like us, when possible, to speak of it first with the other."

"As you wish, I will gladly do this," she said.

"Before we continue, excuse me once again for a moment." She squeezed his hand, by way of a reply, sipping her water.  

Returning behind her he said, "Close your eyes and sit up, please." Nenni complied. 

"Hand me your goblet." He sat next to her again. "You may open your eyes." 

On the bench between them lay her sheet music, her recorders, and violin, all in their cases. For a long time, she was silent, afraid that somehow it was a trick of her mind. Finally she reached out to touch the soft recorder case, to prove to herself that the instrument was inside. Swallowing, she asked "How?"

Thranduil looked down, uncertain how to answer. Finally he said, "Because the Valar are generous and kind, and because I love you."

Looking into his eyes, she said, "I am filled with thanks, for this gift. This is worth more to me than all the jewels in your vault." 

She placed all of the precious items on a different table, where she could not possibly knock into them, and returned to him. There were not words, so instead she wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly. He returned her embrace for many minutes, and then she felt him pushing her back. Reaching into the folds of his robe, he retrieved the bag of seeds, placing it in her hand.

"You must promise me, meleth," he said as his thumb brushed away the tear that ran down her cheek, "that you will rest this afternoon, after the midday meal, instead of trying to plant every seed in the bag, and play every song." 

"I will,  Hîr vuin. I could not accomplish either task, in a single afternoon."

"There is something else, Adonnenniel, when you are ready. These instruments can be duplicated, if you will allow yourself to be parted from them for a short time."

The possibilities were not lost on her. "Hîr vuin, if this is the case, I would be content to hand over two of them now. There is only one, on which I have real proficiency. If I might keep that for the time being, I can do without the others. The violin especially, it would be better to let others see it before I can manage to do anything to it. The mastery of it will take...effort."

"Then would you care to walk with me, to the instrument makers?"

"Absolutely, yes. We can do this...now?"

He nodded, smiling. She retrieved the violin case, opening it to admire the lovely instrument for a moment, then closed the latches. Taking also the soprano recorder, she was ready. Replacing her crown for her, he took the violin case for her as he returned his own to his head. 

"Your crown reminds me of something, but I cannot quite place it", she said, gazing on his, frowning. "Perhaps it will come to me later."

"It does not remind you of the forest?" he asked. She had the look of one who is trying to concentrate on a recollection, but then fails. Shaking her head, she said softly, "Not...exactly. I am sorry, it eludes me. To the instrument makers, then."

He wanted to pursue the crown comment further, but the look of happiness on her face stopped him. Leaving the chamber, he walked with his hand held at the small of her back. Very much enjoying the feel of his hand on her, she leaned into him with a content heart.

The instrument maker's workshop was down one of the tangles of corridors that made her realize how much of the Palace was still unknown to her. _Perhaps I will slip out one night, and walk until I am either hopelessly lost or find my way around_ , she thought. E _ither way I would learn something._

When the King guided her to enter the chamber ahead of him, Nenni gasped with pleasure. The spacious room was filled with an elaborate series of wooden racks and pegboards, and most available space was taken up with parts of instruments in various stages of crafting. She had only a surface knowledge of their art, which she deeply admired and respected. 

 _This is Hannasiel, the head instrument maker_ , Thranduil sent. 

"i Aran nîn, Hiril vuin, to what do we owe the honor of your visit?" The raven haired elleth approached, wiping what appeared to be varnish off of her fingertips as she curtsied. Her delicate features lent her a beautiful appearance. But more importantly, she obviously cared nothing for vanity, as her tunic was a happy collaboration of stains and varnishes and sawdusts. Nenni liked her already.

Thranduil gestured for his wife to take over the discussion. 

"Hannasiel, is there a worktable on which I might show you what I have brought? I always fear dropping things." Hannasiel gestured to an empty tabletop with deference, curious. 

 "These are two instruments from...my homeland," she said, deciding to avoid an altogether awkward subject. "Aran Thranduil tells me that you may have an interest in reproducing them." 

Nenni first took out the soprano recorder, assembling the two pieces after carefully oiling the joint with her fingers. She held it out to the instrument maker, who demurred. 

"Would you demonstrate it, please, Hiril vuin?" 

Nenni concentrated, forcing her fingers to cover the holes that seemed so crammed together. The spacing was much smaller than on her alto recorder, to which she was accustomed. Carefully she played the range of it in a chromatic scale, returning from the highest notes with an arpeggio. She then showed Hannasiel the fingering chart tucked into the case; no knowledge of English was required to understand it. Any idiot could learn the basic fingering of the instrument; but only practiced skill  could reveal the true beauty of its voice.

A chestnut haired ellon had appeared nearby, drawn to the sound he had heard. 

"Rainantien, I believe your next project has arrived," said Hannasiel, gesturing for him to approach. He had just enough presence of mind to bow to his rulers, so entranced was he with the new instrument on which he was feasting his eyes. "Rainantien is our master of wind instruments, and will be assigned to the duplication of....I am sorry, how is it called?"

Nenni smiled. "It is called a recorder. In an ancient language of my world, recordari is the word for 'remembrance.' This is a soprano recorder. I also have an alto recorder, but would not be parted from it just yet. There are other sizes that I do not possess." 

Carefully she handed the instrument and case to Rainantien, who held it as though it were a newborn child. She felt a slight tug of worry, but knew in her heart he would treat it more carefully than she herself would.

"And this, Hiril vuin?" Hannasiel asked, gesturing to the case. Nenni unlocked it, noting and appreciating the respect the instrument maker showed for another's possession. 

Hannasiel gasped when she saw the violin. 

"I will not pretend that I can play this, but I will tell you what I know. It is called a violin, and like the recorder, this is the highest voiced member of a stringed instrument collection of similar appearance. This pitch pipe (she blew into it to demonstrate) gives the proper tuning of the four strings. The bow is made of horse-hair, and must be coated with this rosin, the sticky sap of a tree, in order for the instrument to sound. The bowstring is tightened before playing, by twisting this knob. The violin and bow are held in this manner, and the sound is produced thus" as she drew the bow over the strings. She could barely play a scale, but she had always had the dexterity to bring forth a sweet sound from the instrument and not the godawful screeching that so many beginners managed. 

"This is not a costly instrument; it was built for a beginning student such as myself. The greatest violins are renowned and priceless. I can only tell you that the sound comes from the combination of different woods, the careful assembly, and even the stains and varnishes used. I know that they are often made of maple, and spruce. You may need to deconstruct the instrument in order to replicate it; you have my permission to do so. Better you than me," she smiled, carefully replacing her treasure in its case. 

Nenni looked up at Thranduil, having nothing further to contribute. And that was when the realization struck her, what his symbol of rulership  called to mind. _A crown of thorns._  

"Thank you, Adonnenniel. Might I ask you to wait for me outside the chamber door?"

"Certainly, i Aran nîn," she said, forcing down the uncomfortable connection she'd just made. 

"It was a pleasure to come here, Hannasiel, I take my leave." Inclining her head to her King, she withdrew.

When the door was closed, Thranduil turned to Hannasiel, and spoke in a low voice. "I expect to return here, shortly after the midday meal. There is another instrument, which will greatly exceed these in size and complexity. It is called a piano. Most of all, it is this one with which I would task you, to construct for my Queen. It is something over which she has a fair mastery; nothing like it exists here. It would mean a great deal to her, and to me, if this could be accomplished. You will need parchment, and patience, as I describe and explain its workings. I will also need your permission to show you my memories, without which the discussion may prove impossible. Do you consent?"

Hannasiel appeared taken aback and utterly intrigued, in equal measure. While the request did make her uneasy, the opportunity was simply impossible to forego. Looking at her King evenly, she replied, "You have my consent, i Aran nîn. I will await your return." She bowed her head in respect, as he departed.

 Hannasiel breathed deeply. It took a great deal to make her feel like a giddy elfling, but three new instruments in a single day may have just very well accomplished it. Returning to the violin, she opened the case, retrieved her calipers, and began recording her first measurements. 

"Thank you, for bringing me here," she told Thranduil, when he reappeared. "It is joyful to me, to see skilled artists in their element. Such a difficult vocation." 

The chiming of the dwarven clock told her they had an hour and a half, yet, before the midday meal. Back at their chambers, she carefully oiled her alto recorder, which had not been done in a long time. Her paranoia of cracking the wood exceeded her desire to finally enjoy her music...she would wait for the wood to take up the oil and the moisture in the air. Plus, there was a feeling in her body that could best be described as, too tired to be interested in anything. Looking at the bag of seeds, she felt as though she should... _do something_ , rather than waste the time. 

"No," she heard from behind her. He removed his crown, replacing it on the shelf, and did the same for her. Clearly, he had opinions on how she would occupy herself today, and she did not elect to resist. Pouring her more water, he gestured for her to return to the bench.

"What else is on your mind, Hîr vuin?" Stretching luxuriously, she drained the goblet. He still marveled at just how much water she drank.

"Many small topics, that I neglected to ever pursue with you. Two of them are from Turuhalmë. I asked you questions, to which your reply was effectively, 'ask me later.' As it is now later, I choose to ask." 

She frowned, genuinely at a loss as to what he meant. But in all likelihood, she was about to be reminded.  

He continued. "That evening, as we loved each other on the worktable, you displayed the most clever means of allowing me access to your body without fully disrobing. You would not explain to me then how you learned to do this, so I am asking again."

Her cheeks flushed pink. _Where in the left field did he come up with this?_ she wondered. She cleared her throat. "Ah, well, I believe I have mentioned at one time or another that I was...sexually adventurous in some of my time on Earth. It is unlawful there, to be nude in public and it is an even more serious crime to be seen having intimate relations in a public space. So if a person is going to choose to break those laws, it is a good idea to be able to replace one's clothing, very quickly, should one be threatened with discovery. That was one of my solutions to this pressing problem. Is this what you wished to know?" Smiling at her answer, and seeing the honesty of it, he nodded.

"And the second question, Hîr vuin?"

"You asked me if I was serious, about feeling jealous if you were to dance with another ellon. You would not fully answer me when I asked whence the question came, except to say, you had no wish to damage your relationship with me. There was more that you left unsaid, and I would know what it was." 

He felt a stab of regret in her, at the question. She lowered her eyes, briefly, but looked back at him to answer. "I have always had greater camaraderie with men than women. Most of my friends, in the course of my life, were male. When I was married to Michael, I insisted on our relationship not being one defined by physical faithfulness to each other. I wished to have the freedom to choose my own intimate partners. He did not particularly want this, but he tolerated it. 

I was molested, when I was a child. Much of my life on earth was spent trying to find my way back from that, trying to understand my own intimate needs and desires, trying to find out what...worked for me. I did as I pleased. When it was all said and done, I regretted my choices. The result of my grand experiment in self-awareness was that I had methodically and selfishly hurt someone who cared for me. I will not ever, for anything, make the same mistake with you. Whatever you tell me your needs are in this relationship, it is a law to me. Not because you command it, but because I cherish you. I am ashamed, to have ever disregarded someone else's feelings to the extent that I did." She looked down again. "Is this what you wished to know?" she asked quietly. 

Thranduil regarded her, touched but unsurprised by her willingness to confess these things to him. "What do you mean by 'molested', meleth? I do not understand." 

She flushed again, lowering her eyes. "It is the word used when someone seeks out a child for sexual gratification."

"The Edain of your world do such as this?" he asked, with thinly veiled anger. 

"Yes. Often. Especially to those who are weak and vulnerable. Mostly to girls, but to boys as well. You would not like it if I were to tell you the extent of the problem. There are many bad people there, Thranduil; but good ones also."

"And Dennis, he was a partner you chose during this later time of which you spoke?" Nenni nodded, recalling the unhappy memory. 

"Meleth, did your husband not...want you?" 

Looking into the swirling snow outside the window, she said, "It was...complicated. Michael and I came to our relationship with intimate preferences that perhaps were not quite a good match. He also had a medical difficulty that did not always allow his...male parts...to work as they needed to, for intimacy. We never seemed to be able to maintain this part of our relationship, though we remained very close as friends.  I was certainly done with seeking out other partners, even after he died." 

Thranduil frowned. "Your Edain body had the desire, even when there was no one?" 

She nodded. "Almost all healthy people have desire, and quite a lot of it."  Now it was her turn to frown. "All your long time, without me. You did not wish to...?" 

He shook his head. "For the Eldar, this need awakens when we are paired. If the pairing is severed, the physical desire leaves, swiftly. What you lived with, that is a kind of unimaginable cruelty."

"So you mean to say that up until the moment we reunited you had not....in thousands of years....wanted to join with another?"

 He chuckled. "What I mourned was the loss of your companionship, the connection of our spirits. Of course our intimacy was and is a delight...but I did not experience what you describe."

She shook her head, finding it incredibly hard to process this. "To us it was not cruelty so much as...biological reality." Blushing pink once again, she buried her face in her water goblet. "Is there more you would know, Thranduil?" 

"Yes, there is. Perhaps you would tell me what a Crown of Thorns is, and why my crown reminds you of one?"

Looking down, she asked carefully, "Hîr vuin, have I displeased you?" 

He frowned. "Why do you ask me this?" 

Her eyes remained riveted on the snowdrift just outside the door. "It is only that, you are asking me questions that are...not easy for me to answer. I am unsure if you mean to make me uncomfortable, either in jest or because I have caused offense. Sometimes you...examine others in this manner, almost as a form of discipline." She paused. "It is not my place to comment on your crown, i Aran nîn." 

"I am not displeased, Adonnenniel. Though I will confess that perhaps, my mind lingers on having had to chase you three hundred feet up a certain tree, and up yet another one later on."  

Flustered, her eyes widened. "The first correction I accept, Thranduil. But you surely do not fault me for climbing, to try to save myself from the bear?" 

He leaned over to her, smirking. "I do not fault you. But perhaps had you not exhausted yourself from the first tree, you might have fared better with the second? And, if I ask the question, it most certainly is your place to comment on my crown."

 _Ouch._ She could choose to retort, but it would only be digging a deeper hole. He could see her confusion, mingled with slight trepidation. He had a thorough weakness for tormenting others in this manner, and was enjoying himself mightily. 

"I....as you wish, Hîr vuin. If you see my thoughts, that is what a crown of thorns looks like. They were placed on people as a cruel form of punishment. To me, there is a similarity because your crown is also visually threatening. Though it is a marvel all the same, because it lives. When I look at it, I am reminded more of who you used to be than who you have become." She was unhappy, at having been forced to say this.

And he was not the happiest either, after hearing it. He had to reflect, that her observations were not far off. Created by him to make exactly such an impression, it matched a cold and dominant ruler that would suffer no opposition or disobedience. Yet he had now worn it for so long, he simply no longer thought on it as other than a symbol of his rule and his duty to his people. Nenni leaned toward him, resting her head against his chest.

"If you could freely alter it, with no thought of recrimination from me, what would you do?" came the next question, after several minutes' silence. 

Sitting up, she looked at him, but he did not meet her gaze, looking only at the crown on the shelf. Turning her own attention to it, she considered. "I would soften it, in subtle ways. Perhaps doing so over time. I would reduce the height of the tallest twigs, to create a more even arc by which to frame your head.  I might also explore asking the wood to grow side shoots, to suggest the antlers of your elk and the branches of trees. You carry so much authority, in your bearing alone. I would choose to have the crown compliment your beauty, your power, and the might of the forest. It would reflect the Greenwood as it will become, not the stark woods that sink into the present darkness."

"Then it is time for a change," he said, rising abruptly. "Come." 

 He grabbed his crown in one hand, and her arm in the other, and marched toward the garden.  Nenni swallowed nervously, trying to push her thoughts down deep. She feared what this would require of her...her own crown had been excruciatingly difficult.  Losing momentary control of her mind, a fleeting notion surfaced. _I want to truss him up with vines._

"I would not, if I were you. I have a rather firm grip on you at the moment, meleth."  

Her groan that he had caught that added to her chagrin. _Why did I have to climb that stupid redwood?_

 "That is exactly the kind of thinking I wish to encourage on your part," he said, smugly. 

Her ire flared. "Well too bad, because I cannot regret it. It was....never mind," she said, appalled that she'd blurted it out. His eyes narrowed. He would hear the rest of that sentence, and soon.

"Sit where you prefer," he said, releasing her once they were at the bower. Choosing the edge of the bower bed, she kicked off her slippers, grounding her bare feet to the soil. She held out her hands to him, dreading the battle ahead.

"Wait", she said, having a second thought, and withdrawing her hands. "Please place it in my lap, then sit behind me. Hold the bare skin on my arms." When she felt his touch, she took a last, deep breath. "Do not remove your hands, Hîr vuin."

Taking up the crown, her fingers tingled under the same force of life she'd felt from it previously. It had an aura of strength and dominance; it would not change in the manner she desired, willingly. It wanted to increase, not the other way around. Expeditious, precise work was required. 

With all the force of her will, and some of his as well, she directed the longest spines to die back and polish off at the tips, evenly and carefully. Perspiration beaded rapidly across her face as she did this. It was a full blown battle, to force something this strong and this alive to bend to her will. _There is much of its master in it_ , she thought. She was tiring, but she yet had Thranduil's strength to draw on. Working carefully from left to right and back again, she drew out side shoots of bare wood from each of the spines, in irregular intervals, in imitation of branches or antlers. The slowly changing profile of each twig began to soften the overall appearance. 

At the same time she felt it had reached the simplest manifestation of her idea, she gave out. Swiftly setting it down to one side, she felt a trickle run out her nose and to her lip. Too tired to care, she simply let the blood flow. 

 _You may remove your hands now._ She'd meant to ask if it pleased him, but a fatigue as strong as any she'd ever known washed over her.  The pull toward oblivion was swift and powerful, and she was taken by sleep before she could even give it another thought. As she collapsed against him, he caught her. 

Alarmed, he laid her down, seeing now the blood that trailed down to her chin. Examining her swiftly, he found the most profound exhaustion he'd ever seen in her, but no other obvious injury or illness. He stopped the nosebleed easily, but was at a loss. _What had just happened?_

Taking the sides of her head, he began searching her mind deeply, until he found what she'd submerged from him. A frustrated growl escaped his lips. She guessed this would be extremely difficult, and might require a great effort. But he'd made it clear that he wanted it, and she had obeyed him. Partly it was  the intricacy of the work, but mostly the force of will and subsequent drain it took to bend this object to her desire. Not having realized any of this, he did not consider how tired she was, nor did he think to question why she asked him to hold her. 

 _Your thoughtless husband has done it again_ , Adonnenniel, he said, shaking his head at his own idiocy. _I am sorry._ As she was in no danger, he took a moment to at least examine the result. He rather liked the outcome, and smiled. The crown was much the same but...absent a measure of darkness.

Placing it on his head, he took his wife in his arms and carried her back. They should have been leaving now, for the midday meal. He could waken her and get miruvor down her throat, and still have her rest afterward. Then he remembered, they had a guest tonight. His options had just become limited. He rang for Galion, and placed her on the bed, covering her with a warm blanket. He ensured that the fire was burning brightly, keeping the chill away.

When the steward arrived, he asked for a simple lunch of bread and a soup for both of them, and that he would want a guard sent to the room a half-hour after the food had been served. He dismissed the Steward, thanking him for his trouble. 

Thranduil marveled at his own apparent talent for wishing her to rest, and then creating circumstances by which she would end up more drained than ever. Feeling a degree of responsibility, he decided that he was canceling their regular duties tomorrow. He would harvest a double or triple batch of grain himself, to make up for falling behind schedule; growing it would be the only task he would permit her. Then he would find quiet pursuits.  

 _Sure you will_ , the Little Voice said. 

Whipping around, he saw the faintest trace of a smile on her lips, yet he was certain she was sound asleep. He stood, watching her like a vulture, until Galion returned with soup and departed with scheduling changes.

Thranduil ladled soup from the tureen and cut bread for her into small cubes. Bringing this to the bedside, he gently tried to wake her. It was rather difficult. Disoriented, she rubbed her eyes, struggling to come back. He held her up against him. _Adonnenniel, you must eat something. I will feed you, and then you may return to sleep. Try and keep your head up, meleth. Open your mouth for me, it is soup._

She did as he asked, trying to clear the fog and fatigue. _Did I have anesthesia?_  Her mind was reaching for the only thing that had ever made her feel like this. The broth on the spoon tasted good, and she swallowed it gratefully.

Thranduil did not know what anesthesia was, and had to search her mind until he found his answer. _No meleth, you are only very tired. Open your mouth for me again, here is more_. Patiently, slowly, he fed her all of the broth, including the small pieces of bread that he had let soak until they were insubstantial. 

_You did very well, Adonnenniel. Sleep now, and I will wake you for dinner._

She did not answer, as she was already gone again. Before he returned to eat his own portion, he checked that there was plenty of miruvor in the cabinet. His mind drifted to a cordial that the healers might have, one designed to impart added vigor to those under extended strain from battle. Even considering its use was a definite indictment of his failure to care for her. But, he was keenly aware of how she would feel if she was in no condition to receive their guest this evening. And frankly, the thought of having to ask intelligent questions about the finer points of milling was not something he wished to face alone.

He ate quickly, seeing that Beren's nose was twitching from the smell of the broth. Feeling generous, he ladled out the last of the soup for the dog, silently calling him over. Stretching luxuriously, the hound strolled over and quickly disappeared the contents of the bowl. Seeing no more was to be had, he returned to the bed and curled up against his mistress, returning to slumber. The guard arrived promptly, and after ensuring the ellon knew where to station himself, Thranduil departed on his errands.

He hoped this piano endeavor could work. He knew he asked a great deal of his wife, which she willingly gave. She always freely forgave his blunders, too, only ever seeing the good in him.  He did not fully understand what had happened to her at her home, with her own piano, but he could see that it ran deep. He feared to ask, lest he dredge up more grief. He would know eventually.

To open his mind, to someone beside his wife, was as uneasy for him as it was for the instrument maker...it really simply was not done. He had never even shared anything from his mind with Legolas. Yet, he had no other means by which to relay his learning. For Adonnenniel, he would gladly endure the discomfort. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door to find Hannasiel waiting for him. She curtsied to him.

"Hannasiel, you may well rue the sight of me before this is over. I wish you to know, I am asking this for the love of my wife, who has a deep attachment to music from which she is now parted. Her piano was one of the most lovely, complex things I have ever heard. I would like this to be a surprise for her. You will be well rewarded, but I cannot force you to undertake this. Are you willing?"

The raven haired elleth smiled at him. "i Aran nîn, please understand that in our eyes, this is an opportunity that comes along never, or rarely, I cannot decide which. It is our passion, our calling, to bring more music into Arda. You honor us, with this." She inclined her head to him in respect.

Surprised and gratified, he acknowledged her with a nod. "While I had the opportunity, I read and memorized a technical explanation of the construction of the instrument. As it turns out, there are multiple design styles of these pianos. The instructions I read are not for the same style as the instrument the Queen possessed. They are all played the same manner, but built differently. If you still consent, offer me your hand. I will first share with you my memory of the Queen playing the instrument. This will take some minutes. I will not touch your mind in any other way, except to show you what I have stated."

Hannasiel extended her hand, trying not to show her nervousness. The King felt no differently. "This is as strange and awkward for me as it is for you, Hannasiel" he said, taking her hand. 

Somehow, his honest words made the instrument maker feel rather better. Closing his eyes, Thranduil sent the memory into her mind. Hannasiel gasped, as her vision filled with his sharp recollections. Her wonder at the mental gifts of her King rapidly transformed into openmouthed astonishment at what she saw and heard. The fingers that flew over these keys, the hammers striking the strings, the foot pedals that controlled the expression of the sound...this was beyond anything she could have ever imagined. It was ingenious, intricate, and it was surpassingly lovely. The King released her hand, allowing her time to orient herself, watching her struggle. "Take your time, please," he said kindly. 

"I must build this, i Aran nîn. No one who can play such as this should bear the burden of its loss. Please, show me what you know." 

"First are the animated and still diagrams. I must touch you again to show you each one. When you no longer require the image of it, please tell me. I wish to confirm that I may do this?"

"Yes, i Aran nîn." She held out her hand. The degree to which he was taking care to ask her permission set her at ease. 

He disgorged still images and animations to her, and diagrams. After a half hour, she was showing the strain. "It is in my mind, i Aran nîn, and I must now transfer what I have seen to parchment. I regret that I do not believe I can absorb more, until I have transcribed what you have already shown me."

"It is well," said the King, releasing her hand. If I may return periodically, we will make orderly progress."

"If it is not presumptuous of me to say so, i Aran nîn, two days as a minimum between your visits would allow me to keep up."

"I will prevail on my recorder, of the non-musical sort, to take dictation of the texts I read. This will reduce the burden on you. I will deliver those documents, as soon as I may. I sincerely thank you for your interest and enthusiasm, Hannasiel. I take my leave"

Chuckling at the dry humor, Hannasiel said "i Aran nîn", bowing her head.

 _That was exhausting_ , both King and instrument maker thought independently as he departed. Her head reeling, Hannasiel wasted no time in laying out her drawing instruments and carefully beginning to render the images in her head.

Stopping at the Healing Halls, he nodded kindly to Rhistel as he passed, to speak with Galasríniel. He explained the nature of the Queen's fatigue and the necessity of being presentable by this evening, and was given a selection of remedies. Expressing his thanks, he departed with the vials  and small bottles carefully stored in the pockets of his robe. 

He spoke to Rhistel long enough to give his regrets that the Queen must take extra rest tomorrow, and would not be able to visit. When he expressed only interest for the Queen's welfare and assurance that he was content and healing well, he earned a look of pleasure and great pride from his King. 

Thranduil returned home, dismissing the guard and carefully placing his medicinal treasures in their proper places. Neither Beren nor Adonnenniel had moved a muscle in his absence. Pouring himself wine, he replaced his crown on the shelf before sitting down. He definitely liked the change, he decided. And for what he'd done to her today, he would pay his penance in every visit to the instrument makers. It was a strain, to send out his thoughts with such precise control. _Just like altering my crown must have been. Except, I am not asleep with a nosebleed_ , he thought ruefully.

Nenni slept on for another three hours or so, and then woke. Her body still felt  tired, but her mind wasn't going to cooperate no matter how many little attempts she made to return to sleep. This too was old news; she used to call it "too tired to rest."  Beren whined and kicked her in his slumber, which was the final straw. Sitting up, she tried to recall why exactly she was in bed in the middle of the day, and had he really spoon fed her lunch? Looking round, she saw that he sat with his back to her, not realizing yet that she had woken, and then  her eyes fell on the crown. _Ah._

She very quietly mentally debated the wisdom of letting him know that she'd gone headlong into his instructions, despite having a good idea of the outcome. Not that she'd intended it to go quite this far; there had been no wish to waste hours of the day in this condition...the toll of using her gift under different circumstances was something it would take a very long time to pin down, exactly... 

 Sooner or later, he was going to have to realize that his tendency to become carried away with his own authority could have a downside. It might even be safe to say, she was allowing him to create his own object lessons by which to learn this. Maybe. She remained unconvinced that this approach was having any success. The other problem was, he was right just enough of the time to validate his generally domineering behavior. 

And, she wondered how much she actually cared? Yes, she was stubborn and had a carefully buried streak of perverse resistance, but she couldn't entirely fault someone who knew what they wanted and insisted on it. Frankly, it was one of the things about him that strongly appealed to her. It was when it ran on too far, that it became an issue. But where was the line?... And therein was the problem. Meh. She loved him, and so far, she was keeping up.

Very, very quietly and carefully, schooling her mind to absolute silence, she crept up on him; curious as to whether she could. Finally standing behind him, within reach, she was fascinated. Did he really not know she stood there? That seemed impossible. She was very leery of underestimating him, but there was a simple way to find out. Slipping into his mind, she saw that he only watched the beauty of the falling snow.  Her eyes narrowed, recalling some quip about  being able to bury his thoughts as well.

"I'm not buying it," she spoke aloud. 

He smiled. "Then, you are learning. Will you sit with me, meleth?"

"Gladly. If I may amend that to sit on you, I will be especially happy." He opened his arms to her, as she gracefully curled into his lap.

"Is your awareness a gift, or is it something that can be learned? Or would the answer be revealing too many secrets?" she asked.

"You wish to know, how I knew you approached me?"

"Well, yes. And I have also not forgotten your tracking me into a tree when I was fairly certain I'd left no trace of my passage."

He regarded her, affectionately rubbing her back, watching in quiet amusement as her eyes unfocused under his caresses. "The simple answer to both is, my mind is quieter than yours. And because of it, and long practice, I perceive subtle things readily that escape the notice of others."

She thought on these words, and then remembered what had happened in the redwood tree. Only when she had grown very still, had she become aware of something more. And similar occurrences, at other times and places. "I think I might have a basic comprehension of what you say. And it at least assures me that godlike powers are not involved."

"Meleth, what did happen in the redwood tree? I saw the growth all around you, and that you were not directing it."

"I cannot tell you, for I do not understand myself. I went there to be...an imp, as you would say. But when I grew very quiet, resting, I...there was something. Was it a whisper I could not understand, or a feeling? It came from the tree, of that I am certain. It felt like trying to reach for a hand that I could not grasp. The impression was of beauty, and serenity. The growth happened, then. I was lost in this, having forgotten why I'd gone there in the first place. It was when you spoke to me, that the moment was broken."

Thranduil gently brought her eyes to his own with his hand, examining her memories carefully. As he released her, he stroked her cheek with his thumb. "I believe you could have wakened the tree, had you chosen to, Adonnenniel."

She frowned, shaking her head. That the elves could do this, she knew, though of the exact technique she was not aware. "I would not have chosen. On Earth, it would have been a cruelty. It was enough of a gift for me, to feel the life within reaching out, and send love and appreciation in return. If awareness is to waken, it deserves a caretaker. There are no elves to watch over that forest, now that we are gone."

He nodded his head to her. "Your answer contains wisdom." For awhile, they sat in silence.

"Does your crown please you, Hîr vuin?"

"Very much, Adonnenniel. The price paid to change it, not so much. I ask your forgiveness, for doing this to you."

Nestling into his shoulder, she yawned. "There is nothing to forgive. I failed to take something into account, and, I am still learning the use of my gift."  She craned her neck around to look at him. "Did you really feed me soup, or did I imagine that?"

"You did not imagine it, meleth. I am sorry, for reducing you to such a state."

She laughed. "You could not have realized, and should you want more done to it later on, I will be better prepared. You did not intend for that to happen. I should have guessed; your crown is much like...you." Her fingers stroked his cheeks. "I hold nothing against you, Thranduil. Be at ease."

"Why, meleth, do you forgive so easily? I failed to care for you, rather spectacularly, and yet it is of no consequence to you when you must bear the outcome?"

Nenni chuckled. "I was assigned to Guilt, Blame, and Responsibility enough in my life. Truly, they are useless pursuits. We all err. I love you, very much, why would I want to hold an honest mistake against you? Justice only accomplishes so much. I would rather have a willingness to overlook such things, especially when it was not done from a place of malice." Before he could say more, her face grew yet more earnest. "Thranduil, the day will come when I am the one at fault for something, great or small. I know how badly I would want your forgiveness. Why would I have any right to ask for it, if I cannot give it?"

He did not reply, and when the silence grew, she looked on in his thoughts...and felt some cause for concern. While it was a far cry from Javert to her Jean Valjean, Nenni realized that his concept of justice was more judicially oriented than her own.  She forgave freely unless forgiveness was not possible; he viewed forgiveness as structured around a complex system of initial motive, merit, punishment and repentance.  

"Or not," she said softly. "I did not realize this about you; though, I should have. You are a King." 

It had ever been something of a flaw of Nenni's; she assumed that others shared her outlook, until evidence to the contrary caught her unawares and forced a different realization.

He stiffened beneath her, his voice taking on an edge. "And you feel your outlook in this matter is better?"

She sat up, surprised and a little hurt to hear his words. "No, i Aran nîn, I do not. My perspective was formed around how I would wish to be treated by others. Yours was presumably formed by the burdens of running a kingdom. I was not speaking from a place of criticism."

"Then from what place were you speaking?" he said, not mollified.

Looking out the window, she sighed. "The place of understanding that should I transgress, I will face a sterner form of reasoning  and judgement than the one I would offer in return. And that I will suffer for it."

He stiffened further.

 "Hîr vuin, there is something you must understand. I am open to changes in my thinking. I can learn, I can be taught. When I am given evidence of the merit of an idea, I can and do revise my core values. But in this matter, I have been influenced by the culture of my world. We are taught to forgive, because none of us are perfect. We are encouraged to show mercy to others, because one day we will need it ourselves. I am in your world now; yet on this matter, I have only that which I brought with me. It is furthest from my mind to offend you; my words are because you asked me once not to tell you what I thought you wished to hear. I am yet very tired, and I fear to speak more on this. I have no wish to earn your anger." By the end, her voice was reduced to a whisper and she had turned to lie against him once again, closing her eyes. 

He spoke no further, but wrapped his arms around her more securely and rested his chin lightly on her head. From this wordless reassurance, she relaxed against him and was soon asleep again. 

 _Why do her honest words provoke me?_ He asked himself. It was becoming all too frequent that innocent discussions led him to perceive antagonism from her where none was ever intended. If he could not stop this, he would wear her down and her light would diminish. Or worse.

 _Then find your courage and your integrity,  and think more of her honesty than your own ego_ , the Little Voice said. 

Thranduil's eyes grew wide. He looked down at his wife, completely and unquestionably unconscious in his arms. This was the same damnable voice he heard her arguing with, from time to time. How was it possible, for this to be happening to him? 

 _How dare you tell me to find integrity_ , _or courage_ Thranduil said. _What do you think you know of either of them? Have you ruled a kingdom, or led thousands into battle?_

The Little Voice replied smugly. _Enough to know someone who quite often has to make themselves be "right," whether they are or not. Enough to see that you would rather bowl her over with your authority, in defense of yourself, than let what she might teach you sink in. Enough to..._

 _ENOUGH,_ Thranduil roared in his mind. 

 _Of course, O King_ , said the Little Voice with mock contrition. _And when you have broken her spirit, you will yet rule your subjects, and fight your battles. I will not stop you..._ the words faded away, as coming from one retreating into the distance.

 _Wait, come back_ , Thranduil said. _Please, do not leave._

_......Yes?_

_Please, tell me how to change. I love her, and I do not know what to do._

The Little Voice now contained no trace of contempt. _There is hope for you, Thranduil Oropherion. It is simple, yet difficult. Think before you speak, and speak to her with love; not relentless teasing, accusation, or harshness. Can you not see her willingness, and that she craves  your affection and approval? You healed her mind of its past damage, but that does not mean she is strong or whole. Nurture her, or slowly destroy what remains. The choice is yours._

 _Who are you?_ Thranduil asked, subdued.

 _Do you not know?_ said the Little Voice. _It will come to you, in time. Farewell for now, O King._

He held her close as the afternoon wore on, rolling this conversation over and over in his thoughts. He recognized the truth of what he'd been told, but could he do it? _You have to_ , he told himself. _You have no choice; at this, you cannot fail._

The faint chime of the clock pealed in the distance, and he knew he must wake her. He began rubbing her back. "Adonnenniel, it is nearing time for the evening meal. Arandorian the miller will join us, we must prepare."  He felt her slowly reach her hands to her eyes, rubbing them. There was weakness in her limbs, and he helped her sit up.  A thought that amounted to, _how will I ever get through the meal, being this tired_ filled her mind. 

"I have something that will help you, meleth, allow me to get it." She slid off his lap, still trying to tear herself from sleep. Sheer force of will opened her eyelids, but she could not stop the yawning nor her watering eyes. Thranduil returned. "Drink this, you will feel much better." Seeing her lack of coordination, he unstoppered the bottle and held it to her lips, helping her steady it. The taste of this one was reminiscent of peppermint, but with another dominant flavor she did not recognize. Almost immediately she felt the strength and energy of being completely well rested and fit. Clearing her throat, she said, "That is...remarkable. I do not know what it is, but I thank you for it. If it lasts the evening, so will I."

He chuckled. "You are welcome. I had no wish for you to suffer tonight on account of my poor planning."

Her face fell, a little, and she looked at him. "I wish to apologize, for offending you earlier, Thranduil. I am sorry."

He smiled down at her, feeling regret. "The fault was mine, Adonnenniel. There is no need for you to apologize. I have had time to reflect, and it is I who apologize to you." 

She smiled faintly. "That is kind of you. As was your allowing me to sleep in your arms. I feel better, now." He could feel that she did not wish to say more, lest she accidentally say anything else...wrong. This filled him with regret, but he understood the wisdom of letting it pass. Her response was his own doing, and he would have to work to earn a different reaction.

"We have the better part of an hour. Do you wish to bathe or change? I will comb your hair once more for you." She looked down, not recalling what she was wearing. 

"Please help me. I do not wish to dress elaborately for Arandorian's visit. No crown or jewels or stunning gown; I want him to feel comfortable here. I imagine he is already very nervous. Is what I have on suitable, or is there something simpler that would be a better choice? I should have perhaps thought to ask what Galion would provide him to wear." She smacked her forehead with her hand. "And I need to go to the garden, I wish to offer him a basket of fruit to enjoy while he is here in the Palace."

"Then just a moment, meleth." He brought her hot tea. "Sit here, and please allow me. I will be back shortly. A selection of fruits will suffice?"

"Thank you, Thranduil," she said, taken slightly aback. "Mostly apples please, and then a little of whatever is easiest to pick." 

To what she owed this, she did not understand, but it was appreciated. She closed her eyes and savored the tea.

In short order, a gift basket was on the worktable, and a simple but attractive dress had been procured. This one pleased her greatly, as the neckline was embroidered with a pattern of wheat. "Did you ask for this to be done?" Her eyes shone, as she pointed to the golden stalks against the blue background. 

He was tempted to tease her, but instead answered simply. "Yes, Adonnenniel, I did." 

The next thing he knew, her lips were pressed against his own, with her arms wrapped around his neck. He eagerly returned her kiss. "You are so thoughtful," she said, happy, kissing him one more time before withdrawing. 

He would have to keep in mind that not teasing her would perhaps benefit him more than he'd considered.

The evening was more enjoyable than Thranduil had imagined it might be. Arandorian was indeed kind and modest...and level-headed, keenly intelligent, and with a mind for resourceful solutions. He found himself drawn deeply into the conversation, and not  at all bored. And with an eye to preparations against the coming war, they laid the plans for manufacturing the components for not one but two complete mill works; the pieces of which would be stored safely in the bowels of the Palace. Nenni had raised the subject under the guise of efficiency and preparedness against further attacks, but the King swiftly perceived her wisdom. It stood to reason that at some point, Arandorian's mill and others that supplied his Realm would once again suffer destruction. The ability to quickly restore at least some milling capacity would benefit everyone. From the miller they gained knowledge of materials, the superiority of dwarven millstones, and other pieces of critical information. The miller expressed his deep gratitude for the privilege of their invitation to him, and took his leave, deeply touched by the Queen's gift.

As Nenni went to change into her night clothes, Thranduil could not help but have a glimmer of insight. If this miller represented a fraction of the valuable assets that the workers of his kingdom offered, he would be a fool not to make the effort to know them better. _She already knew, because she saw their worth as being equal to her own._

He changed in his wardrobe as well, donning only loose fitting breeches and a robe, tending the fire as he returned.  Nenni was already seated in a nearby chair, enjoying the warmth. 

"Thranduil, the medicine you gave me... Does it work by masking tiredness, or does it actually erase the need for rest?" 

He thought, taking his own seat, and opening his arms to her in invitation. "I would say, perhaps both, in even measure?" He added gently, "Tomorrow we will ensure you can recover, meleth." 

She did not answer, seating herself lightly in his lap. He began to rub her back, which quickly brought a soft moan of enjoyment. 

"You did not play your recorder today, meleth," he noted aloud.

"I could not." Thranduil took this as a minor rebuke, saying nothing, until she continued. "The instrument is delicate, and it is important to maintain the wood. It needed oiling, which I'd long neglected. Many hours for that to soak in does not go amiss. Tomorrow I will start playing it again, slowly, to give the wood a chance to re-moisten. And please be honest with me, if it annoys you."

"Why would it annoy me, meleth? I thought it was lovely."

She smiled. "If I am not mistaken, you have never lived with a musician. We spend just as much time practicing exercises as we do playing and...the former can be tedious in the extreme."

Leaning into his chest, her own hands reached up to seek his neck and shoulders. Her strong fingers probed and worked their way into his muscles, giving him warmth and relaxation as well. When her hands finally tired, she pulled back from him, looking into his eyes. He read the question there, and gently kissed her. The longer this went on, the more he felt her love pouring out toward him. He read relief that matters between them seemed to be at peace, gratitude for his kindness and gentle words, but mostly a consuming love for him. All of him, flaws included.  He took her to bed, providing her with the comfort of his body. 

As he held her sleeping form in his arms, watching the glow of the dying embers play against the stone walls, he heard faintly _Well done, O King._

Smiling to himself, he now understood with perfect clarity why she so often told this voice to Shut Up. He had to admit, it _was_ terribly annoying when it was right. Closing his eyes, he fell into slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adonnenniel's audience with the Arandorion the miller references the chapter in Dragonwind, "Engineering."


	22. Lapses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rhiw 38, Imladris, December 31, Gregorian]

Nenni woke late, with no sign of Thranduil in the chambers. Stretching, she felt much better. The pool lacked appeal, for whatever reason; she would rather see the garden. It had been too many days, since she'd really looked around and taken stock of what to do. She poured tea, and changed into work clothes, electing to dispense with footwear altogether. After scratching and rubbing Beren to wakefulness, the two of them ambled up the passage. The apples looked tasty. At her command, one fell into her outstretched hand.  Absentmindedly munching, she strolled around, taking mental notes. She'd have to get out here with parchment, later, to plan the influx from her seed collection. The citrus were what she particularly hoped would grow...if those existed in this world, it was news to her, and she'd really missed especially lemons. And the thought of her flower collection, which was now about to expand dramatically, pleased her as well. 

She raised her eyebrows. It wasn't written anywhere that the vegetables had to be only in one area and the flowers in another. Even without the insect problems of Earth to consider, there was nothing wrong with mixing it up. It wasn't like anyone except Thranduil would have to fuss with it, anyway, and surely he knew a tomato from a marigold. It might be very pretty, in appearance. Maybe. There was time to think about all of that. 

She'd need seed containers, too. Much of what she'd brought back was what she'd call "one and done" crops that were not meant for multiple harvests. There would need to be a means for storing and organizing quite a lot of seeds. She could ask her husband, or perhaps Erudan in the storeroom? It had been some time, since she'd said hello to him. Either way it would wait, she was not feeling gregarious at the moment. 

A fallen log  in a sunny place offered an inviting place to stop, and think. Beren ambled over. "Sit with Mama, Buddy," she asked. The hound obliged, with some generally unfathomable string of noises. Could she look into his mind, now? There should not be a reason why, not, so she tried. _Beren, can you hear me?_ He made a singsong noise of affirmation. How she wished they could run off and kill Orcs today, but she knew better than to ask. While she was no longer strictly tired, she was also not feeling... robust. Even without yesterday's crown fiasco, she had to admit that the past several days has been some form or other of significant physical or mental strain. Or both. She had eternity, and could certainly afford time to regain her full strength. 

And it would be nice to play her recorder, a little....it had been quite awhile. Taking a deep breath, she tried to see how well dee.dl.dee.dl.dee.dl.dee.dl.dee.dl ad nauseam had held up...the never-ending tongue exercises. Smiling, she recalled how sometimes Michael would come up behind her when she was making these droning sounds, and the look on his face had suggested he feared for her sanity. Laughing out loud, she remembered the four hour car trip during which she had done nothing but practice....Dee.dl.dee.dl...the entire time. She shrugged. Regardless of the instrument, there was usually noting too sexy about the technicalities of mastering music.

Her stomach growled. Maybe Thranduil was back? She would like a real breakfast, but had no idea what time it even was, or whether the meal in the Great Hall was over. "Let's go back, Buddy. I'm hungry for something besides an apple." Still no Thranduil, and the food at the sideboard looked unappealing this morning. She now heard the chime of the Great Clock; she'd missed breakfast, and it seemed wasteful to bother Galion. Her eyebrows raised. Months ago, Tinivel had showed her how to get food from the kitchens, at any time. She mentally hesitated...was it some kind of faux pas, for the Queen to eat in this manner?  _Well if it is, the definition of what is allowable needs to change around here. I'll be damned if I am supposed to be so lofty that I cannot eat where I choose, with everyone else._

Dressing in a gown that was suited to her station but not too elaborate, she added her crown, and found her eating utensils in her desk, that Tinivel had provided what seemed like ages ago. _I probably ought to look the part, she guessed. Should she leave a note?_ Looking around, she confirmed that he had not left one for her. _I won't be gone that long_ , she reasoned, closing the door behind her.

She ambled to the kitchens, smiling and nodding to those she passed. Filling a plate with eggs, toast and some slices of cheese, she happily sat down to eat in the common area. Nenni was well aware that she earned stares of disbelief, but did not care. Most of her attention was on using her best table manners. She looked up when she heard a soft voice say, "How are you, Hiril vuin?" It was Tinivel, who she'd not seen in countless weeks. Nenni rose at once, to exchange the traditional greeting gesture, beaming to see her friend.

 "I am well, and it is very good to see you! Would you join me? Have you come here to eat?" Tinivel looked hesitant. "I insist, Tinivel. You are my friend and I would enjoy a few moments' time with you. I thought of you only this morning, when I found the utensils you gave me. Plus, I find I want some more tea. Return here, once you have your food?" Smiling, the elleth nodded. Pouring tea and adding a small sweetroll from a stack that had escaped her attention, Nenni returned to her breakfast, joined soon by her friend.

"Tinivel, now that I am slightly less unaware of life here, I must ask...what is the exact nature of your occupation? I am often mortified, by how much I yet need to learn."

Tinivel smiled."I am one of the head chambermaids, Hiril vuin. I oversee the care and comfort of guests to whom the King assigns me, and the orderliness of the quarters for which I am responsible...as well as your own."

Nenni came dangerously close to choking on her tea. "Tinivel, it is _you_ that cares for our home?" Her eyes were wide with chagrin.

"Yes, Hiril vuin. I have cared for the King's quarters as long as I can recall. It is a great honor."

Nenni's eyes narrowed. "I am curious. Did King Thranduil ask you not to tell me the exact nature of your duties, when I first came here?"

Immediately, the elleth looked intensely uncomfortable. "Hiril vuin I...."

Nenni reached her hand over, to briefly touch Tinivel's arm in sympathy. "My question is already answered, Tinivel, be at ease. It is my King's right to do as he chooses. That being said, I wish I would have known much sooner. You know the small table, between the two chairs near the fireplace?" 

"Yes, Hiril vuin." 

"Good," Nenni smiled. "From time to time you may find a basket of fruit there, or flowers. They will be for you, and I will be most offended if you do not take them with you, to enjoy."

Still, Tinivel appeared nervous, and Nenni now guessed why. "If you are concerned about protocol, then know that my Lord has already given me permission to do such as this, for those that care for our home. He will not find fault," the Queen said firmly.  "And if anyone else does, they will answer to me."

Tinivel relaxed visibly, on hearing this. "Thank you, Hiril vuin, it is very kind of you."

Nenni smiled. "It is a joy for me to share the things that I grow with others. I want you to know how much your service is appreciated, and how grateful I am to share such a beautiful dwelling with my husband." Nenni sighed. "I would like to speak to you more, another time. I believe you can tell me much, concerning the working life of the Palace. But for now, I must take my leave. I am so happy, to have met you here." 

Tinivel stood as Nenni rose, bowing her head to her queen. Many looked  on in wonder, as Nenni returned her own cup and plate to the area for cleaning and cared for her own utensils. Having excellent peripheral vision, she took it in a sense of amusement. _If I will defend you from your enemies, I will sure as hell wash my own fork for you, beloved elves._ Being so near, she stopped in briefly at the kitchens, to compliment them once again on the fine food and to take a moment with the head baker Lalaith to confer about pie crust and fruit tarts. They agreed to begin with apple tarts, and see where it went from there. Full and pleased, Nenni walked back to their chambers. 

Finding that Thranduil had returned, she went to him immediately. "Good morning, Hîr vuin," she said brightly, embracing him. 

"You are feeling better, meleth?" 

"Thank you, yes. I no longer feel like an empty washtub."

A look of confusion spread over his face. 

Nenni clarified. "Drained, Hîr vuin. I meant that I no longer feel drained. Please excuse me, I forget that the similies of my mother tongue do not always work in Sindarin."

"I see. May I ask what it is you have been doing? It is unlike you, to leave." 

"Hm, I suppose. I was here, until I left," she mused. "I have been to the kitchens, where I had a lovely accidental breakfast with our chambermaid, and then I instigated the creation of more desserts. And yourself?" 

She was daring a little bit with her reply, testing the waters of his mood. It was not deliberate sarcasm, but merely the quirky state of mind into which she'd woke...and after his solicitous behavior last night, she decided for once not to edit her demeanor.

He did not react, but simply said, "I walked to the stables, to discuss a matter with the head groom."

Nenni smiled. "I like it there," she said with absentminded fondness, "it smells of horses. And tack. Anyway. What duties are there today, Hîr vuin?" 

"Only one, Meleth, and it is largely my duty. I will ensure you have a day in which you rest and recover your full strength. With no disasters, mishaps, or poor decision making on the part of your husband," he said softly, removing her crown from her head and placing it on the shelf. 

 _This is different_ , Nenni thought, uncertain how to respond. 

He continued. "Please change into your work clothes, as will I. To keep the schedule, three cycles of grain should be harvested. You must grow it for me, but I will do the harvest work alone. You may occupy yourself as you wish, as long as the activity is not strenuous." Thranduil waited, his face neutral. Internally, he  prepared for some kind of resistance from her. 

She spoke as she bowed her head. "Then, Hîr vuin, please excuse me. I will await you in the garden." Her nicer work clothes were the most comfortable, and she was only too glad to obey him. While she did not often wish to shirk from work, it was an easy decision to accept; with her current physicality, there was no desire whatsoever to labor at long hours of scything. There was a phrase for this she'd not used in a long time: _I feel fried_.  She gathered writing implements, water flask, a plate and half a dozen cups...which were the only things that seemed suitable as a surface on which to pour out and sort her seeds. _I wish I'd thought to try and bring my curved hemostat from home_. _Nothing is handier_. Some of what she'd brought with her was almost as tiny as a mote of dust, and she did not wish to lose a single thing. 

Her strange array was soon laid out on her worktable, which occupied an area that never saw a breeze. Arranging the cups in a semicircle around the plate, she carefully poured out the contents of her bag, and began teasing them away from one another with her work knife. It was then that her hair began finding ways to annoy her. Just as she was reaching around to find some inelegant solution to the problem, his hands rested on her shoulders. "Let me, meleth." He combed thought her hair with his fingers before plaiting it; his touch felt wonderful. She turned to briefly embrace him in thanks. 

"You are ready, Hîr vuin?" she queried. 

He nodded, and she saw in his eyes that he looked...pleased?  His demeanor continued to seem...softer, and she did not understand why; not that she was complaining. Nenni loved all of him, but this mood was among the ones she preferred; there was no need to defend herself  from his teasing. Reassured, an even greater calm settled over her mind.

Concentrating, she grew up the grain. The hard part was always the end...some of the grain needed to shatter out in the harvest process, or else the field would have to be tediously re-sown. Finishing, she checked several grain heads and found that everything was  satisfactory. "I am finished, Thranduil," was all she said, inclining her head to him, and withdrawing. 

Watching her, Thranduil was genuinely puzzled. He'd honestly expected...something...besides this complete yielding. 

 _Ask her later, O King, about a phrase: A platform from which to launch_ , said the Little Voice. Startled, and a bit worried, he sharpened his scythe, and began his work before any more mental oddities could take place.

It took about thirty minutes of careful maneuvering, to tease all the seeds on the plate into little piles by type, but at least it was done. On her parchment she made a list of the seeds she believed she had, then subcategorized them. Bringing this list to the unplanted areas, she stared. Her eyes oscillated from the list, to the space, to the list, to the space. 

Trees needed to be grown first, because they were not so easy to move. A plan was drafted, and noted on the parchment. Returning for flat stones and her stakes with strings, she tapped them into a few locations, more or less convinced from the visual affirmation of her plans that even with the addition of a large medicinal plant section, there was yet room. She could not tell the citrus seeds apart. For all she knew, a standard orange was about to appear next to a kumquat, so they had to be raised up one at a time.

 _Here goes_ , she thought; and one by one, they appeared. Lemon, kumquat, navel orange, tangerine, blood orange, lime, grapefruit, limequat, citron, Kaffir lime. When it was done, she stood and stared at the colorful fruits, vivid as jewels against the dark foliage of the trees. With anticipation, she picked an orange and expertly sectioned off the peel in quarters, sampling it. Her eyes closed from sheer happiness. The fruit was sweet and delicious, far beyond her finest efforts at home. 

Kneeling, she thanked the Valar for their kindness, in permitting this. And then she stared some more, not bothering to rise. 

Strong hands touching her back broke her reverie. "Are you unwell, Meleth?" he asked. 

Smiling, she rose up. "I am fine, Thranduil, only lost in thought." 

She handed him his section of orange. "I owe this to the Valar, and to you. I want you to know, how grateful I am. May I do anything for you, Hîr vuin?"

"I need more wheat, Meleth, please," he said kindly, his eyes widening in appreciation as he tasted an orange for the first time. "Thank you, Adonnenniel. This is very good."

Her eyes widened. "You finished cutting an acre, this quickly?" 

It was only a few seconds' walk to the grain field....and everything was gone, with large sacks full of the grain. She swallowed. "Of course, just a moment." She repeated the growth cycle, and retreated. This time, she stood at a distance, to watch him. 

He had gained a tremendous efficiency; it was much like watching him use his swords. If there was a needless motion, she could not see it. Shaking her head, she returned to her own projects. _How gifted he is, physically. I wonder what it feels like to be that strong and that able._ Then again, she was now far stronger herself, and it did not seem out of the ordinary. _Probably it is all he has ever known, and he does not think of himself as being unusual._

Shrugging, she found a hoe, to prepare a seed sprouting area. Tilting the blade, she expertly pulled a long, shallow trench into the soil. Carefully holding a cup of seeds, she placed each one in the soil about two feet apart, five at a time. And five at time, she grew them up to see what was what. She grew the cruciferous vegetables, the alliums, and was making progress into the chicory family when she felt tired. Sighing, she took her cups back to the worktable, and carefully set an upside-down basket to protect the remaining seeds. 

His instructions had been clear, so now she must stop working. That and, there were far more seeds here than she had thought. Her lists needed revising...and it could wait. 

 _I will be in the bower, if I am needed, Hîr vuin_ , she sent to him. 

_Thank you, Adonnenniel._

She sat on the edge of the soft platform. _There needs to be something more than a bed here_ , she thought. _A seat. A swing?_ _There are times when being horizontal is not what is wanted_. Yet lacking alternatives, she flopped down on the moss. Her lower legs danged off the edge in a carefree manner. Taking in the pleasant smells, she appreciated the chains of purple flowers dangling above her. They were so very pretty; mesmerizing, as they floated back and forth in the gentle breeze that came here sometimes. Who knew how much time went by, as she allowed her thoughts to meander slowly past whatever small things came to her notice. Being so quiet inside of herself was perhaps why she heard the very soft, almost imperceptible footfalls approaching. Sitting up, intrigued that she had noticed, she saw Thranduil approaching.

"Are you certain you are not unwell, Adonnenniel?" he asked with concern. Reaching out her hand to him, she smiled as he took it. 

"I am well. I started to feel a little tired, so I came here to rest. I am trying to do as you asked." She looked away, as the pleasing color of a particular blossom caught her eye. "You need more wheat to cut?"

"Adonnenniel, please look at me," he asked gently. Without hesitation, she turned her gaze to him, her eyes unreadable. That part, he could live with. But her mind was unreadable as well, uncharacteristically still and blank, and he did not know what to make of it. Calmly, and with mild curiosity, she waited for him to speak. 

"There is nothing that you wish to say to me?" Thranduil asked, his voice as welcoming as he could make it. 

She tilted her head. "No, Hîr vuin. While I understand your words, I do not understand the question." 

"You are...different... today, Adonnenniel, and I would like to understand why."

 _Ah, that._ Her lips turned up at the corners. "I have always been a chameleon, Hîr vuin. Perhaps it is only now that you are seeing a new color." 

Knowing that he would not understand the reference, she brought up mental images of the creature in question, and showed how it behaved. She reached her hand out, to touch his face, and twirl a section of his flaxen hair gently through her fingers. Whether he would make the connection, remained to be seen. The difference in her simply echoed the difference in him.

Looking at her calmly and without offering further comment, he raised her up. "Come. One more growth cycle, and then it is time for us to eat. Galion will bring us the midday meal."

Nenni laced her fingers in his, her heart swelling toward him as they walked. At the field, she stopped, and he turned to face her. She wordlessly asked to be picked up, and closed her eyes as she held him. From a place of blazing contentment, she began the growth process, and something was happening. Something different. 

Her psychic awareness of the life around her, and sensitivity to the power behind her gift expanded explosively. From a place of great calm, she could perceive _everything_. Held in his arms, there was no need to even look at her work, for her mind already felt every shoot, stalk and kernel of it through him, and through the earth on which he stood. The clarity was astonishing. A million tendrils went out in every direction, and interconnected...now she had the ability to control each one, or many, as she chose. He had made this possible; every kind word and soft touch had allowed her to arrive at the frame of mind needed to finally see this vast network with her mind's eye.

"Adonnenniel, the wheat?" he reminded her gently.

She released him just enough so she could kiss him on the cheek, before burying her face in the warmth of his throat. _I have done as you asked, Hîr vuin._

Thranduil turned and saw that she spoke truly. He stood there, stunned. "How did you do that?" he asked softly.

 _Through you, I see something that I have long overlooked._ _If you do not understand, look inside me. I love you, very much._

Still she held her connection to what she had found; now that she had seen, it would never be lost again. Her awareness spread, and spread, through each tree, flower, and blade of grass. It was an unimaginable sensation; being one with every form of life in the garden. She kissed him, as a single tear of gratitude spilled from her eye. _I feel so alive._  

He followed her mind, astonished at what he now saw there. He returned her kiss, and looked to see her glowing with light. And like a brick hitting his head, he finally connected everything he had been told. He could have what he held in his arms, or he could have her unsettled and worn down from his trampling on her peace of mind.  

She appeared like a living star, and he had never seen anything so beautiful. She plunged into his mind, fully open to him, holding back nothing, desiring him. Neither recalled lying down, or removing their clothes, but soon their bodies strained together without thought or awareness, so deeply were their minds united. Though they each knew they were loved by the other, this was a new depth of joining. For a time, they did not know where one began and the other ended. Their shared climax caused both to cry out in ecstasy, as Nenni at last released her connection to her surroundings. Thranduil's racing heart beat against her chest, as she held onto him, seeking air. 

After a time, Thranduil chuckled. "Do you remember the fortune cookie, meleth? Mine said, 'the love of your life will appear in front of you unexpectedly.' I thought it charming but silly, since I was already wed to you. But now I see how much I did not understand. I love you, Adonnenniel, and I am filled with joy." 

His eloquence sufficed for her as well. There was nothing she could add, that he would not have already seen. Her eyes smiled as she shared his mirth. Nenni sat up for a few minutes, balanced on her knees, trying to regain the sense that she yet belonged in her own body. She felt his seed flow out of her. Rising somewhat unsteadily, she tried to gather her clothes. Seeing this, Thranduil held onto her, feeling some of the same sensation in himself. They both felt disoriented, but he recovered quickest. Piling their garments in her arms, he carried her back to their chambers. 

Fortunately, Galion had not yet arrived, and Thranduil hurriedly adjusted the privacy screen that could block off the view of their chamber from the dining area. Nenni unceremoniously hurled all of their clothing onto the bed. Coiling her braid on top of her head, she gratefully entered the steaming water with her husband. After the new depth of intimacy they'd just shared, neither wanted to be far removed from the other.

Yet all too soon, the quiet yet unmistakable sounds of Galion laying their table met their ears. Having washed, they kissed each other tenderly and left the pool. Thranduil dried himself very quickly and retrieved a gown for Nenni, and had dressed again in his work clothes before she herself had toweled off. If the gown was meant as a hint that she was not returning to the garden, she accepted it. He gestured for her to be seated, and swiftly undid her plaited hair. Though the braids had not been in long, they left light waves throughout her hair. It was growing quite long, and was now past her waist. The bottom of it was still irregular, never having been trimmed from her original hairstyle. 

Thranduil guided her to the table; Galion had departed. A beautiful steamed fish in a light sauce, bread, and vegetables tempted them. After he had served her, she tasted the fish and frowned. _Needs lemon, desperately._

"Would you excuse me to get something from the garden? I will be gone less than a minute."

Looking up, he smiled. "I am afraid I cannot, meleth, but if you would tell me what you wish, I will gladly retrieve it for you." 

"Then, a lemon, please. The new trees that were put in today, only one has fruit that is completely yellow. There are thorns, mind your hands."  He returned so quickly, she began to wonder just how fast he could run...he had never revealed this to her when they'd gone out exercising.

"Thank you, Hîr vuin." She cut one end into wedges and squeezed the juice over her fish, as he looked on in curiosity. _That's more like it_ , she thought. 

"Would I like that, meleth?" She flaked off a piece of fish and placed it on the edge of his plate for him to try. 

"This is very good, Adonnenniel," he said, savoring it. He reached to bite into a wedge of the lemon. "Stop, Thranduil," she said, gently. "Taste it lightly with your tongue first. Few can bear to actually eat the fruit hand to mouth. It is only when paired with other foods, or sweetener, that it becomes pleasant."

He regarded the lemon and quickly licked it, his face immediately contorting from the intense sensation. "Drink the water," she said, pushing her goblet toward him. His relief was palpable. "Here, let me show you," she said, refilling her goblet, then adding a spoonful of honey to it and stirring. Next she squeezed lemon into the water, stirring it again and tasting it. "Try this," as she offered it to him. He carefully took a sip, liking it. 

"Do the other fruits you grew require similar...navigation?" he asked. 

She laughed. "Perhaps the grapefruit, depending on your taste. And the lime and limequat. We will spend some time on them, later. Their use in the kitchen is endless." Then she remembered.

"I need something, though I am not sure what form it would take, before I make off with all the dishware." She described her need for seed containers, and that she would wish to store them in her chamber if possible, where it was steadily cooler. "On earth you saw my cabinet and all the jars. Some used a large set of very small drawers for this purpose. Is there such a thing, here? I thought to perhaps ask Erudan, but here you are."

"Let me think on that. I can certainly see the need. I may be able to bring you something that will suffice temporarily, that will work better than teacups," he said, smiling.

She finished eating, disappointing Beren except for the slice of bread she brazenly gave him. _How am I supposed to sneak you food, when you drool like that?_ she told the dog. Something like "mwowf" came out of him, and he lumbered back to bed, licking his chops. _You are not helping, Buddy_ she sent to him, pretending to be annoyed.

"Adonnenniel," he said, reaching for her hand. "I think it only fair to tell you that anything you say to Beren is equally loud in my own mind."

Her cheeks flushed faintly pink. "Oops." She looked down. "Who knew?" 

Rising from his seat, he lifted her up, and kissed her. _I did, meleth_. He smiled at her. "I should finish my task at the wheat field. Do you think you could sleep, for a short time, if you stay here? I would like you to rest more."

 "Just a moment." Taking a folded blanket under her arm, she said, "Follow me, please?" Walking back to the bower, she laid down and shook the blanket out. "I will rest here. If you wish it, send me to sleep." Curling onto her side, she sought a comfortable position. He sat beside her, rubbing her back, and after she had relaxed under his touch, he tipped her mind to sleep. Smiling, he returned to the grain.

When she woke, her mind immediately sought the connection she'd found earlier. _I feel like I'm in the movie Avatar, and the earth beneath me is the Tree of Souls_ _,_ she thought, desperately searching for something analogous to what she'd found. It was neither thought nor memory that she linked to, but the life force and health of the growing things. She sought pathways that exited the garden via the deep roots of the trees, and found them. Recoiling, she gasped as she  broke off immediately. She encountered the sickness in the trees, and the feel of moving her mind through it repulsed her. But it felt equally unpleasant, to have ripped her mind away so quickly. Rocking her head back and forth, she tried to forget the sensation.

"Meleth, what is it?" he asked. He had been sitting nearby, watching over her.

She sat up, seeking his embrace. "I found the sickness in the forest, outside of these walls. It felt...ugly, and I tore away from it too quickly. I just need a moment to clear my head." His steady heartbeat calmed her. 

"May I take you back to our chambers?" Nenni nodded. Scooping her up, blanket and all, they soon were back at the stone bench.

"Wine?" he asked. "Yes please, half a goblet."

He seated himself, bringing her feet to his lap, rubbing them. "Meleth, can we talk?" 

She quickly took a swallow from her goblet and her body tensed. He saw her carefully schooled reaction and neutral face as she replied, "Of course, Hîr vuin." 

How could he blame her? That same introduction to yesterday's conversation had begun the gauntlet of unpleasantness that he'd forced her to endure. "Would you tell me, please, the meaning of a phrase in your language?" 

Nenni nodded, waiting. 

What does it mean, "a platform off of which to launch?"

 _That question is not in left field, it is up past the stands_ , she thought.

"That is complex answer, but I will try, Hîr vuin. That phrase is used when discussing how people interact with each other when there is damaged communication between them. It is an abstract concept. There can be a conversational pattern between two people in which tension and negativity escalate easily. Imagine a discussion in which Person A says something, and person B misconstrues what is said, becoming defensive. Those feelings cause Person B to lash out verbally at Person A. Which causes person A to also become defensive. Much depends on the persons in question. 

So a 'platform off of which to launch' is when in the conversation, one person speaks in such a way as to give the other party an opportunity (a platform),  by which to find more fault ( launch), increasing the friction between the two individuals and closing down their communication. The only alternative, then, is refusing to engage with the person in the first place, or choosing words that cannot possibly be turned around against them.. The full use of that phrase usually is something like, "You would do better if you just said nothing, and stopped giving her a platform off of which to launch. Is that what you wanted to know?"

"Yes. Thank you, Adonnenniel," he said softly, rubbing her feet. They sat in silence for some time, as he reflected on the many ways he had Launched in recent history. And how many of her truncated responses to him were designed to take away his platform. His volatility, in conversation, was backing her into a corner. She did what she could to respectfully answer him, while trying to shield herself from his aggression. He had repeatedly been very unfair to her, given the power imbalance inherent in their relationship. He sighed deeply. The responsibility was his and so was the fault.

 _Why in the world would he ask that?_ she thought _. Where would he even have heard it?_ She searched her memory, trying to find even one time she'd ever said that to him. _Maybe some passing snippet from their visit to Earth?_ She was baffled. _The last time I even had reason to think about that was with Dennis, who seemed to believe that trying to keep me off balance and unsettled was a field sport. Asshole. Ugh. Not going to give him any space in my thoughts, not here._

Thranduil heard this, and it was a bitter pill. To have any commonality with that man was utterly unacceptable. It was a pattern of many years, that it had been too easy to unwittingly revisit. How often had he used his authority to transfix his subjects in discomfort, as a cat does a mouse, using their loyalty to him as a truncheon by which to humiliate them? Did he need to confront that there was a part of him that was simply cruel? That thought was worse yet. Thinking carefully, he did not think he was cruel. But he did lack empathy. Cruelty was enjoying the misery of others. Whereas, he did not let himself  acknowledge their feelings. It was the helplessness of others, that he seemed to have a fondness for exploiting.

 _That is the worst attempt at justification I have ever heard all in one place, O King_ , said the Little Voice.   _Cruelty is indifference; you have been cruel, and if you tell yourself otherwise you are a liar who does not deserve her at all._

Thranduil's shoulders sagged, as he accepted the rebuke. He humbled his heart, crushed by the depth of his self-deception. He had stopped rubbing her feet, as tears began to stream down his cheeks. 

Nenni had been sipping her wine, not knowing what to make of his silence or what was coming next. Glancing over  at him occasionally, she was somewhat waiting for the other shoe to drop. Sort of. Mostly. Maybe. His unpredictability made it impossible to know. Pushing her feet gently off of him, he stood up, his lips parted somewhat. 

 _Have I offended him?_ she wondered, a pall settling over her. The desire to run away flooded through her, but she would never make it anywhere if she tried, and she knew it. And it would anger him, making everything worse. Quickly she tipped the rest of her wine down her throat.

Thranduil turned and knelt in front of her, and only now did she see the streaks of tears on his cheeks. Gently he took her goblet from her and set it aside, raising his eyes to hers. "Adonnenniel, I have treated you very unfairly and I ask your forgiveness. My behavior has caused you to fear my words and my demeanor. This is proof of my failure to honor you, who have willingly submitted to me in all things. I have used my authority to speak to you with indifference and cruelty, and I am so sorry. I had thought myself past this, and I have proven that I am not."

This struck Nenni like a blow. Not the remorse, which she appreciated. She was being clobbered over her head that once again, she'd been irrefutably tolerating this, living with this, and telling herself that she must because (insert excuse). She hadn't even seen it; the person victimizing her was the one spelling it out. And that was really, really inexcusably bad. A new personal low, come to think on it.

Her issue was not with him, but with herself. Reaching out a hand, she gently touched his face. "You are freely forgiven, Thranduil, for everything. But I need to be alone right now. Please do not follow me. I will return to you." She left. Not to the garden, but through the rear passageway. She would not poison the garden with the memory of the hurt she knew was coming. Marching for the practice rooms, she found a pair of fighting knives in the armory passage that had not yet been stored, and took them with her. No sooner had she slammed the door shut than she hurled both of them into the target with all of her strength and a growl of frustration. She sank to the floor, crying out with misery. Her failure to care for herself felt complete. 

After Dennis, she promised that no one would ever, ever treat her this way again. No one would ever run down her confidence or undermine her sense of deserving fair treatment. And to keep her promises to Thranduil, she had let all that happen and more. It felt like her  life to date  teetered on a balance, being weighed against her future. The pain of her self-recrimination was monumental. Bitter tears flowed and what she wanted was relief from her ungovernable mind. She staggered over to the knives and pulled them from the target, and rolled back her sleeve. Holding the point of the sharp knife against her arm, the first drop of blood welled up underneath it. She hesitated. Pushing it into her flesh would give what she sought; the physical pain would drive off the mental pain she could not bear. But it was damaging, unhealthy. She'd set this aside, long ago, but she also knew...it worked.

 _Because this is a mature solution,_ the Little Voice said. _You haven't done this in decades, this accomplishes nothing._

_It accomplishes that I will feel better, which is something that sounds entirely appealing right now. Aren't things like this what broken people do? And don't tell me I'm not; a whole person doesn't let themselves be used this way time and again. I didn't even try to fight for myself. I haven't changed at all. And it isn't like I'm about to bleed myself out on the floor._

_You have been given powerful gifts and blessings. Is this the regard with which you would repay_ _them?_ said the Little Voice.

Nenni hardened against these words _. Says everyone who wants my compliance, so I can be used just a little more, until there is nothing left that I can recognize. Well, I recognize this._ With that, she pushed the blade into her arm, slowly, gasping as the welcome pain of it tore through her and increased, the deeper she pushed, until she could take no more. Her crying stopped even as she regretted that she'd done this. _You have better coping skills than this. You should not have turned back down this path,_ she told herself.

With a sigh she withdrew the blade from her arm licked it clean, watching the blood flow. The cut was deep but only through muscle, and not terribly wide. She regarded the angry cut, waiting for the edges to set up a bit, before licking up the blood from that as well. The salty metallic taste was familiar and oddly reassuring. A deep throbbing set in; the wound was doing its job. Her mental anguish was quelled and now she could think with some clarity. She rolled down her sleeve to cover it. It had served its purpose. Conveniently, it was a dark maroon gown. Yay.

The Little Voice was not happy. _Well now, here we are. You're not going anywhere. You accepted  Thranduil in marriage, made vows to a kingdom, and are part of this world. Do you think you are the only one who ever lost freedoms and had their path altered? In case you didn't notice, you have a life of ease and a husband who is trying to address his own shortcomings, because he loves you. Is this the best you can do? Really, this is pathetic._

_Do you have any idea how much I hate you?_

_It is not my job to be liked by you. It is my job to point out your stupidity,_ said the Little Voice.

Nenni looked up at the ceiling, knowing there could only be resignation. She had to let this go and return to him.

_I am sorry. The truth is, I am just so tired of being hurt. I had hoped not to be, this time, but that was never a fair expectation. I knew going into this that we both would stuggle against our pasts. So here we are. Again. Forgive me._

_I am not the one to whom you need to be saying this. You know what to do._

She picked up the knives, to return them. Under her breath she whispered, "Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something."

 _What are the odds I was far enough away?_ , she thought, before she closed the door behind her. _Here goes the Walk of Shame._

Tossing down the knives at their original location, she forced her steps to return to the chamber door, and beyond.  Thranduil sat, more or less where she had left him. She knelt before him, taking his hands in her own and looking into his eyes. "Thank you, for the time. And for your words. That cannot have been easy to say. I hope you can forgive me, for needing to leave."

He looked at her, and said slowly, "I forgive you for leaving. But I do not forgive myself, for causing this." He began to pull back her sleeve. 

She jerked her hand away. "That was not about you, and does not deserve recognition. I had hoped, that you did not see. I regret my actions. Please forgive me also, for the pain I have caused you from looking on and seeing all this. I..." she could not continue. Caught once again in the grip of emotional torment, she choked on her own words. Without thinking, she released his hands to line her fingers up near the cut on her arm and squeeze hard, desperate to regain control of herself. He immediately took both of her wrists in an unbreakable grip and held her immobile. Her eyes widened, and she forced herself to look at him.  "I have failed both of us. I thought I had moved beyond this, and I have not. I am ashamed...."  Her voice fell to a whisper. "Thranduil, I cannot do this on my own. I allowed my past to reach out and claim me. The only hope for my future lies with you."

He did not reply, but he released her, and again pulled back her sleeve. She did not attempt to resist him, and he healed the cut. Reaching forward, he lifted her into his arms and held her tightly. Tears began to flow, from her grief. _I had wanted to say, no one but you ever asked forgiveness. No one but you ever cared how I felt. I know that you love me, and I love you as well. I am sorry, that I have compared you to those in my past, after all that you have done for me. You were trying your best, last night and today, and this is how I repaid your efforts._

"Adonnenniel. You are overlooking that you would not have been driven past your ability to manage yourself, had my own behavior not brought you to this place. You know this, but you refuse to use it against me. I have the authority, and I have the responsibility. That you are telling me these things, in addition to what I heard and saw, only shows me how much harm I have done. Meleth, I will make every effort to repair the damage. You are kind, and have unfailingly shown me the obedience and respect due to me as your King. I, on the other hand, have faltered in my obligation to care for you. I intend to remedy that."

_I do not need to be coddled. I only need..._

He overrode her thought. "I saw, meleth, today. I saw what you become when cared for and loved, and I have seen what you become when undermined and mistreated. And I am filled with regret, that I lacked the wisdom to understand sooner. Your sensitivity and perception is far greater than my own, and my strength outweighs yours. And yet the gifts we each have are also a source of weakness as well. I tend to misuse my strength, and your exquisitely tuned insightfulness turns inward and tear you apart. We are meant to join as one, each balancing against the other." He carefully set her on the bench, rising to retrieve a cloth that he dipped into the pool and wrung out. Returning to her, he carefully washed her face. The warmth of the cloth felt soothing, and she leaned into his touches. When he finished, she took the cloth from him and returned the same.

"Then I will commit again to give you my trust, and look to you for what I lack. Yet I still need to hear that you have forgiven my actions, as it is the only way I can forgive myself for turning aside from what was right, to such a degree."

He took the cloth from her, setting it aside. "I forgive you, Adonnenniel. Can you...tell me about this, without it causing you more pain? I would like to understand." He took her back into his arms. She nodded. 

"It was how I survived my younger years on Earth. I learned that if I cut myself, or caused myself pain, it released the mental pain, for a time. It is called Cutting, and is recognized as a symptom of extreme mental distress...but I did not know it had a name, until many years after. This happened a long time ago. It was wrong of me to choose to do that; I know better. But in the moment, everything broke down. I wanted to give in to the impulse, and I did. I felt tired of being expected to make sensible choices. I did not take the knives, with the intent to cut myself. But once I had them, they provided an opportunity."

There was silence, for a time. "May I ask, Thranduil, why the sudden insight on your part? You do not need to answer if you do not wish to."

He stroked her head as he replied. "Even I managed to notice how often I seemed to react badly to something innocent that you said. And that I was pushing back against you in a spirit of defensiveness, wearing you down because I could. To be fully honest, I was slipping back into my old ways without realizing it. And then...Adonnenniel, sometimes I overhear you in arguments with yourself, as if another person is inside of you. I heard it just now, when you were in the practice room. The same voice has begun speaking to me. It had....much to say, about my treatment of you. I recognized the truth of the words, and I am trying to heed them."

Nenni craned around to look at him, frowning. "The Little Voice speaks to you?" 

Thranduil nodded. 

"Then I am sorry. It is rather a pain, because it is almost always right. It is also insufferably rude."

"But Adonnenniel, what _is_ it? I do not understand."

She smiled. "For lack of better words, in me, it is my  moral compass. The clear-sighted part of me that cuts through my damage and delusions, and speaks whatever truth needs to be said. It lies at the core of my insight and perception. It is...me, as I might be if my entire life had not happened. Who knows, maybe it is a second personality, that only emerges when there is a need. I really do not know. I would suspect that our extensive sharing of each others' minds has allowed it to....infect you. It is not a conscious part of me, nor can I control it. What it is in you, only you can say."

"I find this oddly reassuring," he said. "I am grateful for it, meleth. I clearly have need of something that is willing to stand up to me."

Thranduil inhaled sharply as the Little Voice roared to life. _She would stand up to you if you allowed it, you blockhead. Her promise of subjection to you has taken that away from her._

Looking at his wife, he could see the effort she made to quash the crestfallen expression coming over her face, as she kept her silence. 

"Adonnenniel, I am sorry. What I just said was thoughtless. I....believe that some things need to change, between us.'

Nenni looked at him, a hint of fear in her eyes. 

He sighed. "I do not have your same eloquence for explaining, so please bear with me. I am your King, and it was already agreed between us that you did not wish to remove yourself from my authority. And I am your husband, made far more complicated for you because you must be with me in two inseparable roles. I have spent far more years of my life being a King than a husband. As your husband, I am making mistakes for which the cost to you is too high. I am ruling you more than I am being your partner, and you are suffering for it. For me, long habit has made it difficult to even notice what I do or say sometimes, and then there is you. 

You came here, and took your promise to me more seriously than perhaps any other in this Realm. They were born to this life, you were not. I spent time with you in your world, and saw that you managed yourself successfully, alone, amidst a complex society. As you pointed out to me, I could not entirely leave off exercising my authority over you, a world away. You could have fought me for that freedom while we were there, but you chose not to; whether out of a sense of duty, love, or both.  In all your time with me, you have never wavered. Through matters both easy and difficult, you have obeyed my words, endured my moods, and shown me deference. You did this even when I was unreasonable, even when I was actively harming you. I meant what I said; I need someone willing to stand up to me, and it should be you." He watched her carefully as he spoke, and waited for a response. 

After several minutes of trying to resolve how a round peg could fit into a square hole, she replied carefully. "Hîr vuin, there are two things. One, to stand up to you is to challenge you, to oppose you. It is impossible to be subject to someone and simultaneously oppose them; they are mutually exclusive. Two, even if the first conundrum  could be solved, I am not certain that you understand what you are asking. Even when your mood is only one of mild annoyance, you are formidable. You are physically and mentally powerful, you have a keen mind for sharp words, a will to dominate, a practiced aura of intimidation, and the authority of a King to back up all the aforementioned.  It is why I admire Tauriel, so very much. I cannot fathom the courage she summoned, to stand against you at the height of your anger. I have my own courage, but to ask me to endure this...I would rather run barefoot over glass again."

No storm clouded his face, as she feared it might. Instead he smiled and said kindly, "Then I must change, and the rules must change as well. I already know it is not in you, to abuse the freedoms that I would grant you. In matters of ruling the Realm, everything must remain the same. But in matters between us; how I speak to you, how I teach you, how I live with you, all of it...we cannot continue as we are. I would like us to try being partners. If I am hurting you, I want you to tell me. I want you to resist me. I want you to insist on being treated in the manner you deserve. In return you have my solemn promise that whether you leave the room, raise your voice to me, or flat out refuse to do something, there will be no consequence."

Thranduil was genuinely surprised when a pained expression came over her face, and she began rubbing the back of her own neck. 

She cleared her throat. "May I please have more wine?" she asked, holding the goblet out to him. He filled both, and returned, while she tried to collect her thoughts. Which were amounting to, _I think my head is going to explode, before this is over._

"Thranduil, hearing your words, I will risk saying this: I do not believe that what you are proposing will be sustainable. I recognize what it is you want, but for change to work, it has to be realistic. You are structuring something that sounds good to you at the moment, but flies in the face of who you are. You are looking to be who you think I need you to be. I am not certain I can cope with the floor being removed from beneath my feet. If I understand you correctly, you wish to address this particular problem in our relationship, that I will freely admit has indeed been a source of stress for me. That you want propose changes like this, for my happiness, means a great deal. 

But partners in a healthy relationship ask each other what is needed, and trust the response. You have not asked me, but I will tell you. What I need to know is that my heart can remain open to you, without fear of being emotionally ill-used. I need to trust that I can expect kindness and being given the benefit of the doubt, rather than living in fear of your displeasure. I agree that I would like permission to speak freely to you if you are hurting me or if something seems amiss, rather than being obligated to silent endurance. You have cared for me better than you think. What has been lacking is the assurance that I can fully communicate with you, _especially_ when your disposition has gone south. It is very little, in some ways, but it will still require more of you than you may realize. I have been very happy, give or take this issue. I love you, as you are, and do not wish for anything beyond what I have said. With respect, Hîr vuin."

"Then let it be as you say. Thank you, for your honesty."

"Your concessions are deeply appreciated, Thranduil. I recognize your right to give them, and to take them away." She sipped her wine.

He frowned. "Why would I wish to do that, meleth?"

She chuckled. "Because I can envision a future discussion in which your authority must prevail, in spite of my passionately believing that you are wrong. You have no experience with this side of me, as my promise to you has kept it locked away. You are not the only one in this room capable of being strong-willed."

His eyebrows arched in amusement. Taking her goblet from her, he pulled her near, leaning down to kiss her. She relaxed into him, thinking that in a way, today was a kind of starting over. Contentment and gratitude came over her, and she smiled.

"Why the smile, meleth?"

"I was remembering the first time you really kissed me, in earnest, after I spoke my vows to you. I did not even know if elves...joined, intimately. Much has happened, since then. And I am still grateful, that you kiss so well," she said, blushing a little.

He looked mystified. "It is possible, to kiss badly?"

She reached up her hand to stroke his cheek with her fingers. "One of the most captivating things about you is that you can be so skilled a lover, and yet are so innocent, all at the same time. I cannot even explain how appealing you are, to me. Yes, it is possible to kiss badly. Unspeakably, offensively, nightmarishly badly. Come to think of it, I do not know if I please you well, in this regard. I have always simply assumed some level of adequacy on my part."

He laughed. "Each manifestation of you has pleased me greatly, Adonnenniel. Have no fears." 

The sun was sinking low on the horizon, and daylight was fading. 

"Thranduil, you realize that we will both struggle, somewhat, with this...new arrangement, of ours. It will take time, to find our way through this. But I know it must be done. I have ever met my obligations to you by standing well inside of a set of limits, and now those limits are moving. I am open to correction. You only need gently tell me that I have gone too far, or that I am pushing too much, and I will accept it and adjust. It will not be easy to let this side of myself that has been locked away suddenly run loose. I will be honest, I am afraid to open that door."

"I am not afraid, Adonnenniel," he said, rubbing her back. "I have caused you great misery, and here you are worrying that you will disturb my sensibilities. As you might put it in your vernacular, I need to get over myself. It saddens me, to realize the extent to which you have...contorted yourself...to meet what you perceive as my expectations. May I know, if I were to ask your friends on Earth what you are like, what would they tell me?"

She thought. "The comment I heard most is that I was funny, that I made people laugh. And that I was generous, and caring, and a loyal friend."

He frowned. "Meleth, I have never known you to be humorous."

"No, you have not. That side has been kept from you, because it is also coarse, cynical, biting, and endlessly opinionated. Everything that does not belong around a dignified King to whom I owe my obedience." She paused. "Thranduil, did you understand what I meant, when I told you that I have always been a chameleon?"

"No, not really, though the creature was very interesting."

"It means that I become whoever I need to be, to accommodate the comfort and expectations of those around me. A chameleon reflects whatever colors are near to it, and I reflect the disposition of those who are nearby. It is effortless, for me. But it does mean that only a very few truly know my unvarnished self. Brian did, and so did Michael. And who am I really, now? Some of my personality was a product of my environment. Is there even a place for that side of me, here? I have set it aside for months now, and not particularly felt its absence."

Thranduil digested this. He said slowly, "So, there is an aspect of you that I have not seen, that minus the coarseness, is just like the aspect of me that always seems to cause problems?"

Now it was Nenni's turn to digest. "Now that you mention it, there are similarities." She massaged her forehead with her hand. "Strong similarities." Looking at the ceiling, she paused. "The thing of it is, here, I am a very nice person. I'm not sure I've had an unkind thought or said a critical word about anyone since the day I arrived. Before, I often made cutting observations about others, though rarely to their faces. I also could make an art form out of complaining. It may have been the best thing ever, that my determination to bend to your authority caused me to bury all that negativity deeply, and lock it away. And yet, there was humor, and amusement. While I don't know what to think exactly, I do not believe it would please the Valar for me to...devolve. Perhaps there is somewhere in between, that can keep the best of both." She shook her head. "What a day this has been."

He placed his arm around  her shoulder. "It is a day that has given me hope, meleth."

Suddenly the memory came and she groaned. "Maethirion is coming to dinner. Sweet baby Jesus, why did I do that?"

Thranduil snickered, understanding the reference. 

Nenni looked horrified. "Did I just say that out loud?" Now he openly laughed. 

"You are not helping! Stop laughing. I mean, please stop laughing. And I think I just said an unkind word about someone, so now I've ruined my streak and I won't get a gold star. I am a terrible Queen." She looked crestfallen, and now he laughed harder than she had ever heard him laugh. Her eyes widened as to her horror, she realized that she'd just thought about flipping him off. _Must. Sit. Still._    

He embraced her, chuckling. "I agree, that would be too inappropriate, meleth. Perhaps if you just stuck out your tongue at me, instead, you would feel better."

"You are giving me permission to do that to you?" she asked, in disbelief.

"When we are alone, in private, yes, I am."

 _Oh, my. How am I ever going to get through this evening?_ She buried her head in her hands.

"I will take care of it, and Maethirion, meleth. I know him well. You need not concern yourself. What you sensed in him likely was not too far amiss, but he is not bad at heart. He has ever been too occupied with social status, but it has not prevented him from being a faithful asset in my service. Today was eventful, in spite of my best attempts; please relax and enjoy the dinner. And we have not even discussed what happened in the garden," he said softly. "The power of your gift is becoming very great."

"I do not know if it has increased in power, so much as, I am seeing deeper levels of it."

"It will amount to the same thing, in the end. You are using the magic at a nearly elemental level. Few of us ever attain anything like your abilities."

There was a pause. "Thranduil, is it permitted for me to ask you the extent of your gifts? I do not wish to pry or be disrespectful. But it is clear to me that you have more than one ability, and, I cannot help but wonder."

He regarded her. "It is permitted for you, and you alone. At a later time, I will speak of this more fully. For now I will say, when I was young, the teaching of spells was more common. I do not have the gifts of the High Elves, those who saw the light of Valinor. But among those remaining in Ennorath, only Elrond, Galadriel, Glorfindel and the Istari have similar or greater powers. In time, it is possible that you will surpass me. It remains to be seen. What do you know of my gifts, exactly?"

"Only what observation can tell. You can heal very serious and complex injuries. That you can send me to sleep maybe is an aspect of this, or not. You enchanted the garden, and our crowns. You protect these Halls; you can seal the entrances. Before you were healed, you hid your scar using an illusion. Obviously you are telepathic, but I had the impression all elves are, if they choose to use it? I am uncertain. I sense there is more, but I could not say what." She hesitated. "Not to change the subject, but may I ask you, about what happened today, to me?"

He nodded. 

"Were you in my mind, when I woke from sleeping?"

"No meleth, I was not."

"Would you look on now, and see the memory, please?"

He looked down, grieved. "The sickness runs deeper than I had imagined."

"It does. What I would ask you is, should I fear to touch this, with my mind? Is it dangerous? There is a difference between something being repulsive and being harmful. In this, I am out of my depth."

Carefully, he considered. "I do not believe it is dangerous, but there is a simple enough way to find out. We will go outside, and you will look at the trees again. I will be with you. If it is harmful, I will know, and protect you. You do know, that you have the power to close off your mind? You could keep me out, if you chose, unless I was very determined to force my way in."

"I did not know. Perhaps later, I should learn. But before our discussion takes yet another turn, I wanted to thank you, for what happened today. You made it possible. I believe you, when you say that we were meant to join together."

"How did I make it possible? I was not doing anything except holding you."

"It was what came before. You had treated me so kindly, and my heart was fully open to you. When you took me up into your arms, it was as if I reached through you and saw it. All of it. It drew me in. There was something new, with the plants. I do not see them as I did before. I see them individually, or en mass. I see each cell, or I see the entire plant. I can command one small thing, or all of it at once. It feels like the network of life itself is there for me to perceive. I barely know yet, where this will lead."

He had seen some of this earlier, but did not realize the scope of it. Her face had shone with light, and blessing.

"Then you are welcome, Adonnenniel. I also, cannot say where this will lead. What you have told me is extraordinary."

"I will show you, another time. I seem to do my best work, connected to you. Perhaps it is something to which I should give far more attention."

Finishing her wine, she stood up. "Am I presentable, for our guest?"

"Yes, but if you will indulge me, I wish to amuse myself. Would you allow me to adorn you further?"

Nodding, she made her way over to the chair, catching sight of herself in the mirror. "Thranduil, my hair is becoming longer than a heaving line. Could you cut some of it off for me? I'm notorious for my self administered bad haircuts."

"Your hair is beautiful as it is, meleth. I will not cut it."

She frowned, and asked, politely, "Is it a custom here, that a husband...controls...his wife's hairstyle?"

" 'Controls' is too strong of a word, but, there is a custom to defer somewhat  to the preferences of one's spouse, in such matters."

"Then would you consent to at least trim it to evenness on the bottom? It has not been touched since I arrived here with seven different lengths of hair."

He hesitated. 

"I assure you, it will keep growing, Hîr vuin," she said as neutrally as she could manage. She could not but help reflect on the last time someone had told her that she could not cut her hair. It had happened more than once, and on at least one occasion resulted in her coming home with a pixie, out of spite. 

"That, I forbid," Thranduil said. She giggled at the memory, and at the look on his face. 

"I am not jesting, Adonnenniel."

She shook her head, seating herself. "I know you are not. You have no greater proof of my love for you, than my willingness to bow to your wishes in this. Have it as you will, but I would sincerely appreciate it being evened."

He waited a moment, then retrieved a knife, and carefully did as she asked with the razor sharp blade.

"Thank you. I am certain it now does not look like hungry rats had their way with it."

Thranduil styled her hair beautifully, and added the jewels he wished. She did enjoy the meal with Maethirion, who Thranduil engaged in interesting conversation. There were no hints of his earlier demeanor, and Nenni found much of what he had to say quite informative. Unsurprisingly, he proved to be extremely articulate, with an almost poetic grasp of their language. He reminded her a bit of Oscar Wilde; not for his wit but for the richness of the words he chose.  

Occasionally she asked a question, and a bond was forged with someone on whom she would almost certainly depend, sooner or later. When the evening concluded, Thranduil asked Nenni to withdraw, so that he might speak to the recorder privately. He made arrangements to have the piano's technical information transcribed, out of sight or knowledge of the Queen, and then bade him good night. 

Nenni seated herself by the fire, with a goblet of water, opening one of the books he'd given her to look at, some time ago. Idly, she turned the pages, not being in a mood to read but wanting to see the beautiful illustrations. This one was a history of the Ainur and the Eldar, the rite of creation. She had read this in the Silmarillion, but found it still hard to keep in her active memory. The scribe who made this volume had included images of the firstborn elves waking to starlight, and the Two Trees. Even though she knew her fëa had not witnessed either, it made her feel sad.  Acutely, she felt the loss of her memories. As her eyes welled with tears, she hurriedly closed the book and laid it down, unwilling to risk hurt to it. All her life with Thranduil, the years of his youth, bonding with him, carrying and birthing Legolas...it was lost to her. Just a sentence or two her head, by way of fact, and the few images he had shown her. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve, knowing she could ill afford to dwell on this. 

He saw, as he had been silently approaching behind her, and felt her grief. His lips parted. For all that he had lost and bitterly endured, he had all of her. He'd not considered what it might feel like, to have had his past utterly stolen away. He could share much more of his own memory, but would it help? She had stopped her tears, and was drinking more water.

"I thought that went well, meleth. Did you enjoy his visit?"

She nodded. "Yes, very much. I enjoyed listening to his use of words most of all. I am glad after all that I invited him. And thank you, for carrying the conversation. You have my gratitude."

Sitting, he invited her into his lap, which she happily accepted, and curled up against him. He enveloped her in his strong arms. 

_Meleth, I saw. If it would help you, I will give you my memories. All of them, from this time. I cannot fully replace what is lost, but I could give you much._

This was unexpected. 

_I would appreciate that, very much. But not right now. I think it would overwhelm me. Perhaps on a day, soon, when fewer strong emotions have come and gone. Thank you, that you would do this for me._

_I love you, Adonnenniel. For your happiness, I would do this and much more. Be at ease._

He began to rub her back with slow, gentle circles of his long fingers. As she grew very quiet under his caresses, she idly wondered if she could search out anything of the living network she'd felt earlier, even sitting in a chair on a floor of stone. She cast her awareness out as a wide net rather than a searchlight, grounding herself to the steady beat of his heart. Her consciousness was in a place close to sleep; it was not possible to quiet herself further and still be awake....and then she found it, the edge of the forest outside the walls. Prepared for the sickened feel of it, it was not so jarring as the first time. Rather than revulsion, she began to feel anger, that this infection dwelled in their forest home. These trees did have elves to watch over them, and yet there was nothing to be done? She searched for one tree, and then for a part of that tree free of sickness. And then she pushed back. Locking her mind to it, she followed all the paths of life within, and began to force the cancer out, the same way it had entered; from the roots that delved the earth. And she was succeeding, but the strain was significant. Only a little more, and this one tree would be whole. For a time. 

Bewildered, Thranduil felt the power of her thought, and tried to understand what was happening. The nuances he found in her mind were lost on him, except to sense that she was locked in a struggle that was draining her, and he did not know how to safely stop her. 

 _Adonnenniel, you must do as I ask. Let it go, and come back to me_. He felt her breathing change, and encouraged her. _Let it go, meleth. You are safe with me. Come back, to where I am._ Slowly, she disengaged from the vast network she held in her mind, listening to him. _I am waiting for you, meleth. I very much wish to speak with you._ At last she released the last thread, and returned back across the distance. She became aware again of him holding her, still rubbing her back.

Blinking, she frowned. "I did not mean to do that. I...." _feel like I am in trouble. Again._

"You are not, meleth," he said gently. "But I would not like to see you tire yourself further. I recall how it is, to have a new ability with magic. It can be hard to resist."

"I should have waited for you, before doing what I did. But now that it is done, I believe I agree...it is likely not dangerous. I would like to see the tree, but I think you will not allow it until another time."

He looked down at her. She had not yet opened her eyes, so immersed was she in her new discoveries. 

"Meleth, it is dark outside." She smiled.

"Silly. I do not need my eyes for this, but proximity. But I will not let my eagerness get in the way of good judgment. You have tried very hard today, to have me rest."

"And you have tried very hard to comply. I have to at least keep up my unpredictability." He stood up with her and took her to his wardrobe. Placing her down for a moment, he donned his sword and a very heavy cloak. He left to return with her warmest boots, and helped her into them. He offered her his arm. "We are going walking outside?" she asked "Should I change into something else?" He smiled. "I am going walking, technically speaking. The boots are only for if you must be set on the ground, for some unfathomable reason."

Shrugging, she was not going to inquire further, lest he change his mind. Once they reached the exit near the stables, he lifted her into his arms, instructing her to pull his cloak over both of them. With her cocooned against his warmth and the heavy fabric, he moved off into the darkened forest.

"Where, meleth?" He asked.  

She frowned. "Can you both be in my mind and retain the use of your own vision?" Her experience was always one of needing to dip in and out; when she joined to him, what she saw would fill her waking sight.

"Yes, I can, Adonnenniel."

She smiled. "Figures," she gently teased. "Give me a moment, then join with me. I will be looking through you, and will not use my outer sight as I do this."

It was effortless, now that she was actually in the forest, to pick up the threads where she had left off. He gasped, as he saw with her not the physicality of his forest, but the life force of it, laid out in a shimmering network. Even in its illness, it was beautiful. The tree she sought was easy to find, as it now was lit with the colors of health in contrast to its neighbors. What he saw was like the fëa of sentient creatures, and yet not. The fëa shined on the outside, whereas this revealed the composition of what lived underneath. 

"Bring me near, so I can touch it, please." She asked him. Laying a hand on it, she felt it, so vibrant now, and her heart filled with joy. Reaching out, she had a mad idea. If she had found this from the inside of the Palace, could she reach back from here and find the well of power in the garden from here? "Thranduil, can you direct me to where the garden is, from here? I have never asked you to tell me how the Palace fits in spatially to the world out here. I am not certain where our chambers are, along the walls, or much of anything else."

"Yes." 

Nenni joined his thoughts, so that they once again were deeply connected. He showed her the direction, and then effortlessly she found what she sought. The two purple wisteria blazed into her vision, and underneath them, the massive well of power below the garden itself.

"I want to try something, Thranduil. If I agree to stop should you ask me to, will you allow it?" He hesitated. "Tell me first, meleth."

"I am holding two sources of power that I did not have earlier, in our chambers. What lies under the garden, and you. I want to see how easy or hard it is to push the sickness back from more of the trees. I know that I cannot drive this malady from the entire forest, that much is not given to me. But if I could restore just what is right around our home, it would gladden my heart greatly."

He hesitated again. He worried about her, and yet he could feel her eagerness. And truthfully, it was his own heart's desire as well. "I will allow it, and watch over you."

"Thank you, Hîr vuin. Please choose a tree, the sicker the better." 

Sadly, it look little effort to locate a suitable candidate; a tall birch that had seen better days. Though birches tended to not be the longest lived, this one's troubles had nothing to do with age. He walked up to it. "Place your hand on the tree, Thranduil." He did, and she laid her much smaller hand over his. Feeling an inexpressible happiness, she closed her eyes, and leaned more into her husband's warmth. Reaching to the garden, she engaged fully with the power there and brought it to this tree. At first it was gentle, a trickle. As she found the sickness and pushed back, the power flowed freely through her. She learned to find the sickness more swiftly than the health in the trees, surrounding it, driving it back. Her awareness cast out to take in more trees, and more, and more. Thranduil looked on in deep awe, almost forgetting to ensure that she was not taking too much from herself in doing this. She was using her strength, but not to a degree that should lay her low. As her skill grew, her act of healing moved out as a torrent of water, surrounding the forest adjacent to their home. She wished to be reasonable. Once she had encircled his Halls, she began to disengage somewhat, to allow it to slow down. That she could feel this much of the forest and hold it in her mind was a visceral pleasure, and he felt it too, as he looked on with her. He had not needed to close his eyes, once again she glowed with a radiance of light. Slowly, gradually, Nenni withdrew, until at last she gently pulled his hand away from the tree, returning it to the warmth underneath his cloak. 

"I think that is enough for now," she opined though a broad smile. I thank the Valar for this, and I thank you also."

Thranduil wasted no time walking back inside, tying to control his desire, for her sake. "Adonnenniel, I am finding that your use of power in this way has an interesting side effect."

She laughed. "Yes, it does. Perhaps it is easiest if I remain in your arms all the way to our bed. Your cloak will hide your desire from any who may be walking through the passageways. And, you are not alone. Though, it is unsurprising. The force of life moves through us in immeasurable strength. What is more natural, than that the parts of us designed to create life would respond to it?"

"Hm." He said. His need was growing nearly beyond his ability to control, something he had rarely experienced. In the garden, earlier, they had made love unthinkingly. 

"Adonnenniel," he said, as she shared with her what was happening to him.

"Your practice room, Thranduil. There is a table" The door was mercifully nearby. Placing her down, he cast his cloak onto the table. She swiftly raised her skirts, sitting on the edge of the table, as he desperately tugged at the laces of his breeches to free himself. He took her fiercely, driving into her with great force, even as he apologized to her in bewilderment for his lack of restraint.

 _This has never happened to me...I am sorry, Adonnenniel_  

She saw everything, and understood. _It is not your own doing, beloved, and I am hardly suffering_. For her, it was relief she also needed. Though, she was grateful for her already high level of arousal. He was using her hard, but not unbearably so. It was over with, quickly. He tried to stifle the groan of his release in the crook of her neck. It was easy for her to be silent, as she writhed underneath him. He stayed still for many moments, recovering himself. Nenni did the same, lightly tracing patterns with her fingers on the fabric of his tunic. She had not been emotionally engaged with this climax; it was something purely physical that had needed to happen. As he withdrew from her, he saw her blood on himself, and his face fell. 

"I am sorry, Adonnenniel. I have hurt you." His voice was filled with regret.

She sat up enough to look, not understanding. "I wouldn't concern yourself, Thranduil. That was not uncommon for me, as a human. Trust me, if females can give birth, whatever you just did cannot add up to much, by way of comparison. Besides, I am not in any discomfort, and enjoyed myself." They elected to have Nenni carry what of their clothes it might be awkward to put on again. Wrapped up once again in his cloak as he carried her again, they scuttled through the rear passages, generally hoping not to meet anyone else. While his cloak hid it, he did not relish encountering any of his subjects with only boots and no breeches, underneath.

When they were safely back in their chambers with the door closed, Nenni felt safe speaking aloud. "I am now grateful we had this little adventure under cover of darkness. I am pondering what to do with a powerful gift that leaves us needing each other like rabbits right afterward," she said, laughing. "This will not be one for public display, I'm afraid."

She pulled her gown over her head and gently tossed it onto the bed, and now saw more blood between her thighs. Frowning, she spoke in measured tones,"Thranduil?"

"Yes, melith?"

"Do elleth menstruate?" 

"Yes, they do. Three times in each year, roughly."

"Would you mind telling me if this is what I am experiencing at the moment?"

He finished pulling off his tunic and came around to look at her, suddenly connecting the dots. Laying his hand on her and examining her with his gift, he nodded. "Yes."

"Nuts," she said. "And here I thought I'd managed to leave this pleasure on earth. Awkward as it is to have to ask, can you tell me how this usually happens here? How many days does it last?"

He frowned. "I do not understand the question, meleth." She thought. "Maybe if I ask it differently.....What do elleth do here to care for themselves, when this begins?"

"There is a special cordial to drink that releases the blood in the womb. Then massaging over the womb, or experiencing a climax, will cleanse the organ."

"That is all?" she asked incredulously, her brows knitting together in annoyance.

"Yes." He sensed that he was missing large amounts of information on a touchy subject, somehow, as he watched her glowering.

"Hmpf. Elves." She strode into the pool, scrubbing the dried blood from between her legs, shaking her head and muttering.

It seemed like a wise idea to find the cordial for her. "Drink all of it," he instructed, handing her a small flask. _Tastes like roses_ , she thought.

He joined her in the pool. "Now why don't you tell me why you are so grumpy, while I care for you."

His choice of adverb made her laugh at herself. "It is because it is simply not fair that elves have it so easy." Nenni proceeded to elaborate how the same function occurred for human women. "And it happens twelve or thirteen times a year, depending," she concluded with a flourish of her hand. 

"Then I will endeavor to give you something else to think about."

"I am certain you will," she smiled. "But before I am rendered insensible by your talents, can you tell me what you thought of the forest? My own heart is greatly gladdened from this." His fingers began softly teasing between her legs, as she did her best to ignore him.

"I am joyous to feel that even a small part of the woods are whole, Adonnenniel. It was an astonishing thing to witness. I cannot help but wonder, where your gift will end. Though, I fear for your well being if you do too much like that again. I have never in my life felt such a lack of self control. It was as if I no longer governed my own body; I was honestly worried that I would take you on the floor of the passageway as though I were a mindless animal." Ever so softly, he massaged her womb with the heel of his hand, allowing his fingers to trace over her center of pleasure with the lightest touches.

She considered. "I felt desire as well, but yours was much stronger. Were you fatigued at all, after what we did? Was it as if I was drawing strength away from you?"

"No, I do not believe so. If anything, it was invigorating." He pulled her onto his lap and leaned her back, inserting a finger  and softly stroking inside of her.

She raised her eyebrows. "I wonder, how it would be, if we were already loving each other when I began the process of healing the woods. But I wonder too...how long will it last? What will it take to maintain what we just accomplished? A part of me feels like it is important to do something, that it is a way of taking a stand against the spreading evil and sickness. Another part of me says, don't bite off more than you can chew. Will the health of the trees act in any way as a deterrent to the orcs and other foul things, do you think?"  The tone of her voice changed markedly from the beginning to the end of this exposition. It was becoming harder to focus on anything other than the heat building between her legs.

"It is hard to say. I hope so, but the orcs especially seem rather determined," he said ruefully.

"True. It is difficult to win, against determination," she said, as she could stand it no longer and began moving her hips against the strokes of his fingers. He chuckled softly at the double entendre. He bent down to kiss her deeply as his finger inside of her and thumb just to the side of her sensitive nub continued their relentless motions. Soon she was whimpering softly for him, until the waves of contractions signaled his success. 

He massaged her again as her pleasure subsided, watching as the blood flowed out of her. "It is finished, Adonnenniel."

"Thank you." Returning to her senses, she had to make one last comment. "I never believed that I would be able to look forward to menstruation. For this, I could even become enthusiastic." 

He chuckled. "It is bedtime, I think."

"And what of tomorrow?" 

"Audiences after breakfast. Then if the weather holds, time in the woods. If the weather does not hold, time in training. And the garden work. Does that suit you?"  

She smirked. "I will refrain from asking what you would say, if it did not suit me. You already know the answer, silly."

He lowered the lights and joined her in bed. The familiar sensation of his arm pulling her into the warmth of his body lulled her. With their minds, they each whispered of their love for the other as they drifted off.

*********

Far to the west, the Lords Elrond and Glorfindel sat quietly in the great library at Imladris, each lost in their evening writings and compositions. Both raised their heads abruptly as they felt the use of  magic in the distant east. It was subtle, but very much there. 

Glorfindel asked in a soft voice, "What was the last news you had of  Aran Thranduil, in the Greenwood?" 

Elrond's brow furrowed. "Not since the events at Erebor have any seen or taken notice of him, of which I am aware. You well know he isolates himself, preferring the solitude of his Halls." 

Glorfindel reflected on this with a look of brewing mischief. "For some many weeks now, I have thought I perceived stirrings of power from his realm. I was uncertain, before tonight. I believe it is high time that the King of Eryn Galen received some company, to ease his loneliness." 

Elrond raised his eyebrows. "In the snows of winter?"

"Gwaihir might not begrudge me the favor of a ride. And then Thranduil could enjoy the pleasure of my company until spring brings me the joy of the journey home, with green grasses and the new flowers underfoot. But fear not, some days yet I require, to finish my latest effort." 

Elrond shrugged. "Go armed. Nothing so near Dol Guldur will be free from the stain of Sauron."

"Indeed." Glorfindel returned to his composition, smiling.


	23. Symbiosis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rhiw 39-48, Imladris, January 1-8, 2013, Gregorian]

The following morning Nenni opened her eyes to see sparkling blue ones watching her. She pulled the covers over her head, wishing in futility for...she did not know what, but it probably did not involve the level of eagerness she read in those eyes. 

She felt two fingers walking up her arm, down her shoulder, and to her ribs, tapping her ribs.  _This cannot be good,_ she thought. The fingers tickled her ribs. She retreated further under the covers, curling into a tight ball and covering her ribs with her arms. _Armadillo._ Except now she was uncomfortable, too warm, and this would never work anyway. _God I miss coffee._ Uncurling, she uncovered her eyes only, looking back at him.

"Did you know I never woke early, before I came to you?" she asked. "I would lay about in bed for hours, just smelling the morning air."

"Then I am glad to have offered you so many better alternatives," he said, mirthfully.  She chuckled. _Touché_. Reaching out, she pulled herself closer to him, wrapping her leg over him so that she might fit. He pulsed against her abdomen. _Ah_ , she thought. She guided him to her entrance and pushed herself down onto him, caressing his ears with her fingers. "You do not need to ask to have me, I hope you know that by now." 

He moaned softly with relief. "Yet asking is more polite and considerate," he said, smiling. She pulled at him insistently to shift his body on top of hers.

 "True. But as I always desire you, it truly would not go amiss to wake up in exactly this position from time to time. Consider it an option." Stretching underneath him, she sighed contentedly. "I am going to be shamefully lazy, but for one thing." Nenni relaxed every muscle in her body, except the ones that could clamp down on him, tightening herself. She forced him to push into her, then she grabbed at him again as he moved back out. Sometimes, she would grant him a few strokes with no interference, only to ratchet down on him again. His moans were her reward, but then she recalled his ears again. Gently rubbing and teasing her fingers along the points, pinching gently from time to time, she decided that she wasn't even good at being lazy. He was too interesting to ignore. _Would you like any other position?_ she asked him. The reply came in her mind, and the covers came off to rearrange herself. Facing away from him, she knelt....and could now clamp down on him harder than ever. It had not really crossed her mind, that it was erotic to hear one's partner's voicing their appreciation...and she was hearing rather a lot of it at the moment. 

Closing her legs just a bit more, she forced him to push into her harder, smiling deviously as she threw her body weight back against him with every thrust. Now to throw down the gauntlet. "Please, harder." It would be worth being sore, just to give him a lovely start to his day. He did not hesitate, and gave her shades of what she'd felt last night. She could not have taken this usage in her human body, but the elven version seemed to be managing just fine. "More," she asked. He let off all restraint now, pounding into her. She hadn't been planning to have a climax, focusing only on him as he had done for her last night. But to her great surprise, under this rough and fast tempo, her own heat flared. "Please, more" she said again, and this time it was not for his sole benefit. This never would have worked for her, before, and she was fascinated...and completely desperate for relief. He did not disappoint, reaching around her to add just a little more stimulation with his fingers. Her orgasm felt like everything leading up to it; hard and crashing. It almost hurt, how completely she contracted against him, as if she was trying to crush him.

 For a moment, he could no longer move inside of her, as he groaned from the pleasure of being squeezed so incredibly tightly. When he finally could pull free, the lingering pressure sent him over the edge. It was not a scream, or a yell, but it was without question the most resonant noise she had ever heard from him. When he had finished, he slipped out of her to flop on the bed; she was not far behind in doing the same. She was aching and bruised...and completely satisfied. Reaching for his body with her hand, she made the supreme effort to roll over and face him. Some witty comment would have been fun, but she simply could not think, so she kissed him. "Thank you," she whispered, quickly going to the pool. As she pinned up her hair, the warm water felt soothing on her female parts. Ruefully, she decided that maybe she ought to give it a rest for a day...this was the first time since she had joined with him that she believed it had perhaps been too much....though her extremely happy brain was pitching a strong counter-argument.

Sitting down gingerly, she washed herself, cringing at her own touches. She inhaled sharply as a bad cramp tore through her. This had  happened once before, after a very strong orgasm...her womb had cramped for more than a half hour afterward...it had been intensely uncomfortable. She looked around to see that he had not moved. There were some things it was too wrong to disturb, she opined. It could wait some more minutes until he had completed his enjoyment. Then again, he'd be thoroughly annoyed if she didn't tell him; he had made it clear what he wished her to do.

_I am so sorry to interrupt, but would you help me?  There is pain in my womb._  He rose right away, concern on his face. Her eyes were wide as she tried to breathe around the sensation that someone was poking a hot knife up there. He entered the pool, placed his hand on her lower abdomen, and held her eyes. Refraining from blinking, she waited until he closed his own eyes, before she took her gaze away. She began to experience relief very quickly, and her breathing eased. He repaired the bruising, as well, and she thanked him.

He looked like he was still somewhere else. "Would you do that again?" he asked, dazed. 

"Absolutely" she intoned, with drawn out syllables. She took his hand, and they sat together, not speaking, for quite some time. At last, she felt like she had...recovered...enough to dress, and dried herself. 

"Adonnenniel, before you dress for audiences, would you return here attired in a simple work tunic and breeches, and please leave your hair up?"

Shortly after, she presented herself as he'd asked. He'd put on a robe and poked the fire back to life already. He retrieved an unwieldy bundle, wrapped in fabric.

"I have something for you. It is clear to me that you will be making use of it, and soon." 

She smiled, curiously wondering what it might be; the gowns he gave her usually came in boxes. He laid the bundle on a table and gestured for her to see. She pulled back the cloth to see a beautiful set of armor. Looking up at him, beaming, she asked "Is it bear-proof?" He laughed heartily, and she hugged him. "I do not feel like I can possibly be worthy of this, but thank you, so much." He began to help her fit on the pieces. It struck her immediately that this was very similar in appearance to his own. 

"While it is true that you have much experience to gain in fighting enemies, you have already earned this by your skill. Even with my gifts given to you, you have worked hard and shown the mettle needed to wield them. You will be safer, wearing these, than what you now use. And moreover, you are Queen. I do not go into battle hidden, and neither will you, when the time comes."

He stepped back to check, and now returned to make adjustments. "There are light leather pieces to go with this that will be ready soon, but honestly, they deflect little. This armor is for one who wields a sword, designed to protect only your most vulnerable places...though that makes it yet heavier than what some use. I do not fight with a helm. I cannot afford the restriction to my movement or vision, nor can my warriors afford to not see clearly where their King is at all times. How does the fit feel?" 

Experimentally she moved around the open part of the floor space, with the same arm and foot motions she would use when sparring. "It is less restrictive, and moves with me far better. You must have had this made to my measurements, and for this I am grateful. Especially for the boots, which are so comfortable it is almost worrisome."

"How can comfort possibly be worrisome?" he asked. Smirking, she said, "Simple. My feet might not be sore enough to merit a foot rub."

He rolled his eyes. "I shall help you out of this now. With any luck, this afternoon we will go hunting with Legolas and small patrol."

"Is there a way to make a small mark on the leather before it is removed, Thranduil, so I know next time which are the right holes for the buckles? It would save time, until the straps are broken in."

He conceded that this was sensible, and procured a knife by which to make a tiny nick at the correct places. "There is one other thing about which I should ask you. For some time now, I have had your own horse assigned to you. And yet when have gone out, it has been fortuitous that you rode with me on Tálagor due to...one thing or another. What are your feelings on this?"

As she unbuckled straps, multiple considerations were weighed. "I need to learn to ride better on everything, elk and horse. I cannot mount Tálagor unaided, that needs a remedy. Honestly, if I may be with you, that is what I prefer. But I do need to learn more about riding. I need to incorporate more skilled maneuvers into being on the animals. There is just....much yet to learn, and perhaps riding should be worked on as a separate combat skill, and not at first during these outings. I defer to your judgement."

He nodded. "Thank you."

The routines of their meal and holding audiences passed uneventfully. He began asking her, in her mind, how she would judge different requests. Often she chose as he did, and when he judged otherwise, he explained why, teaching her the reasoning and facts he relied on. Nenni began to see that he used a very orderly set of thoughts, what she would call "flow chart thinking." 

She would address this later with him, as he might find it interesting. For many things, she herself adopted it....but for matters pertaining to people, she found that he lacked a certain level of insight. She began to respectfully offer him her observations, and let him do with it as he chose. Eventually, she felt, they would work together as a formidable team, but those bonds were still being newly forged.

In the late morning, they hurried through work in the garden. "I will harvest the grain alone, Adonnenniel. I would rather you save your energy for going into the woods this afternoon, and I know you have projects to complete."

She opened her mouth to speak and he silenced her, with a stern countenance. "It is not open for discussion."

With some firmness, she fought back, ignoring that his words were more than a little insulting. "Thranduil, please, hear me. I am not trying to discuss it. I watched you scythe. Your movements are perfection, and your stamina and strength far past my own. I concede the entire task to you, permanently, if you choose this. I only want you to know that I will not shirk the work, should you want my help. You showed greater insight in this than I, all along." It was not completely possible to erase all irritation from the tone of her voice.

"Is there more you want to say?"

She met his eyes, softened her demeanor, and spoke sincerely. "Only that I wish you would not assume that I plan to argue with you, or resist you. Have I given you reason to believe that I will?"

He stared back at her, his face unreadable, but she saw struggle in his eyes. He lowered his gaze.

"You have not, and I apologize to you." His voice was soft, and had lost its edge. "You were right. This is not going to be easy for me, yet I must succeed."

She reached up to him, asking silently to be taken in his arms. Once she was at eye level with him, she said, "I know that change is not easy, and I love you with all my heart, for trying." Her feelings of acceptance, gratitude and love she pushed out toward him as she kissed him and ran her fingers though his silken hair. She touched her forehead to his. "Put me down, Hîr vuin, and get to work."

He grinned and did as she asked. She really could not resist slapping his bottom as she dashed away, her laughter pealing as she skipped off to her own projects. Watching her retreat using this odd gait, he shook his head and smiled as he picked up his scythe.

After lunch, she donned heavier breeches and tunic, both of fine black wool, in anticipation of the winter cold. Thranduil braided her hair in a style suitable for combat. She strapped on almost all her armor by herself, struggling only somewhat with the cuirass and one of the pauldrons. Over this went a woolen cloak, and lastly, her sword harnesses and daggers. 

"Meleth, I neglected something," Thranduil said, holding out a pair of fitted, lightly lined gloves that extended past her wrists. He helped her remove and replace her vambraces to add them. "You are very good to me, Hîr vuin." Her eyes shone with appreciation.

She could not resist looking at herself in the mirror. Years from now, she knew that this same appearance would come ahead of heavy, heavy responsibilities. And she was determined to meet them with what courage she had, and fulfill the vows she had spoken to those of this Realm. There were no illusions on her part that war would be anything other than a deep and wrenching sorrow. As she saw it, she knew how to live through misery as well as anyone, and it would be her duty to spare others to the extent she was able. She sighed, and moved on to take one last drink of water. "Beren, time to go." The big hound ambled lazily, somehow having slept through everything from their amorous escapades to breakfast. She fastened his armor, on the way out.

Thranduil had looked on this from the door of his wardrobe; she had not seen him. He knew how right she was, and felt only gratitude that for the first time in ages, they would once again fight together. She did not recall it, but he did, and her spirit of courage was undiminished.

Thranduil took her early to meet Tálagor. He deconstructed for her the motions by which he reached the saddle, explaining that her reduced height need not be a disadvantage because of her lighter weight. Exactly where to grab, exactly how to push off, he spared nothing, and demonstrated as many times as she asked of him. He even showed her a maneuver by which the elk could  raise him to the saddle using the force of his antlers, but that they could save this for another day. "Now you try."

She gave it her all, and succeeded, though it looked far less graceful than what he did. He offered a correction, and asked her to try again, which went quite well. "Once more, last time." Again, she did well. "I am proud of you, meleth. We will practice this often. Remain on Tálagor." She thanked and leaned down to kiss him. "Take his reins, light contact only, and tell him what you wish with speech or with your mind."

"Hîr vuin, what do I wish? You did not tell me your plans."

He laughed. "I did not, did I?" _Follow me to the start of the forest river road, where we will meet the others._ He immediately set off at a run, taking Beren with him.

_Tálagor, thank you for having me. Please follow your master quickly enough to keep him in sight._ For a few moments, she allowed herself to see into the elk's thoughts. It was fascinating but too disorienting. The animal did as she asked. As Tálagor gained speed, she realized she was finding an answer to how fast Thranduil could run. Watching, she wondered how she had ever managed to elude him; he was very fast. For a short time, Tálagor actually ran to catch him. Her admiration of him came second to the realization that she was riding his elk, alone. In a thousand years she never would have dreamed this could happen to her. It was exhilarating. She allowed herself now the ear to ear smile for the joy she felt, that she would curb later to preserve some sense of decorum. _Thank you, Tálagor. It is a privilege for me to ride on you, and I appreciate it greatly._ The elk snorted.

_Adonnenniel, you are going to spoil him with too many compliments,_ he chided humorously.

She stuck her tongue out and crossed her eyes.

_I saw that._ His laughter pealed in the distance, and she flushed pink in her confusion, immediately subsuming her thoughts.  

_How could he know?_ She had carefully not thought about what she had actually done. Her eyes narrowed. _Because he has other undisclosed gifts, is how._ But what would it be? It stood to reason it had a visual component? She shrugged. He said he would tell her, so she would wait. That he had tipped his hand deliberately, she was certain; he did not make mistakes like that. Perhaps it was his way of introducing the conversation. She frowned. That or, he was having fun knowing she's spend all day puzzling over it. _Brat_ she thought quite clearly. 

Again, peals of laughter. 

_It is worth it, to hear you laugh,_ she thought fondly.

Soon enough they reached their destination, and Nenni was the last to arrive. _Stop near the others and wait for your master_ , Tálagor. With amusement she noticed that even the unflappable Legolas ever so slightly raised an eyebrow to see her on the elk. Then again, who could blame them? So much had changed for them as well, since she came, after thousands of years of things being otherwise. It must feel like a bomb went off, in some ways.   _I can very much relate_ , she thought.

_Relate to what?_

_I'm not talking to you, silly_ The look on her face was utterly amused. The King gave instructions, to which she listened carefully, setting her mind into a businesslike demeanor. She would offer no further levity; anything that involved fighting or his commands earned full attention and cooperation. It had not occurred to her that today's quarry involved spiders. Reflecting on her few lessons in the trees of earth, she felt woefully unprepared, but he would not have her here for no purpose.

Thranduil sprang up behind her. _Enter my mind_ , she heard, _and begin learning the use of the sword to direct those who follow_. His steel sang as he drew the sword at his back. He held it first aloft, then tilted it forward. They followed him. The patrol was on foot, but Legolas rode Féla. 

_If I may ask, please tell me of the spiders and fighting them._

He entered into a long mental narrative that passed the time and the leagues. Whether it was the cold or that something had changed, the nest that had been reported could not be located. Thranduil elected to ride on for another half hour. A magpie flew to the King, telling of an Orc pack thirty strong, only a short distance ahead. Thranduil raised his sword, then waggled it, signaling all to come closer to listen. Swiftly he issued instructions. _Adonnenniel, dismount and remain with Beren near Legolas. Attack when the rest do._ She vaulted off immediately, drew her sword, and followed  Féla off the road. 

The King rode a short distance ahead, and the other elves followed on either side of the road, a short distance into the forest. This served to disguise their tracks in the snow; any Orc with the actual brains to look would not see anything but the single set of Tálagor's tracks. Soon enough their heavy feet and foul speech could be heard coming down the track. Nenni gave Beren clear instructions, and to be silent until the King's command. There were only two Orc archers, sluggish to move into position. Thranduil easily batted away their arrows while he acted as bait, maneuvering Tálagor so as to sandwich the orcs between himself and the hidden elves that were flanking the pack. The moment the King's sword dropped, they all sprang from hiding. 

There was a great deal of space in which to fight, and Nenni drew her second sword. They were fanning out to form a loose circle, and she took her part. Beren ran amok among the now fearful orcs, biting, worrying and distracting them. Her swords sang as she swiftly feinted in and out among them, being ever cautious of her footing in the snow. It was child's play, to find openings by which to slice their throats. They were slow, and ill prepared. She saw that on Orc had broken  out of the circle and was coming behind Thranduil, unseen.   _Behind you, on your right, Hîr vuin._ Without turning to look, he decapitated the Orc with one swipe of his blade. 

She returned her focus to what she was doing. It was over with swiftly, and she had tallied seven of them, unaided. _Perhaps the others were letting me?_  she wondered to herself, as she cleaned her blades in the snow and dried them on her cloak before sheathing them. 

Thranduil rode up next to her, with Tálagor, offering his arm to pull her back up to him. And she was grateful, because her practice had not included the antler maneuver. "Pile the carcasses well off the road and burn them, with the pitch intended for the spiders. Legolas, oversee this. Join us, as soon as you are able." All bowed their heads to him, and swiftly began the work; no one particularly wished to linger over the task. Nenni sat up straight, as they left. Legolas gave her a wink and a warm smile that caused her eyes to sparkle. When they had ridden out of sight, Thranduil put his arm around her and pulled her back against him. While it was not exactly romantic to have her back against his armor, she still appreciated the contact, and reached up to hold his arm above his bracers.

_I promised to tell you of my gifts. You have excelled in observing me, and your list was nearly complete. There are two others. Perhaps you can now guess at one of them?_

_I have been puzzling that out, as I am sure you intended. Something involving a spatial awareness, something that allows you to see at the very least people, even though your physical eyes do not behold them?_

_Very good. Enter my mind, and see._

She was correct, but not in a way that she could have guessed at. For lack of better words, he could choose to visualize living creatures much as she now visualized the trees and plants. He could reach out his mind and identify a being spatially, with the ability to see its composition on any level of detail. It was an auxiliary of his healing skill. He could view fauna as though he was a sort of a diagnostic scanner, seeing the thinnest slices or the largest components of a body. But like with her newfound application of her own gift, it wasn't "turned on" all the time. He had to have a reason to be using it, because to overuse it was a drain.

_Can we work together, to see both what is plant and what is living flesh, all laid out at once? May I try?_

_Yes,_ he sent, with more than a little curiosity in his tone.

_I will try to overlay what you are showing me with what I can perceive,_ she said to him.

Closing her eyes, she reached for the network of life in the woods, laying it out like an odd three dimensional map of sorts, and tried to place them and the elk into her network. Using the vision both of her mind and her physical sight, she began to resolve the two sets of images. It took a minute, but she successfully combined them.

_Well isn't that handy,_ she thought.

_Indeed._

_Did you use this ability, Hîr vuin, to compensate for the loss of your eye?_

_Yes. Consequently, it is a well practiced skill._

_You were a father who really did have eyes in the back of your head. I pity Legolas._

_Trust me, I needed them. And now there is one more thing._

He asked the elk to hook a dead tree branch as they passed, which he expertly caught in his hand. 

_Hold it well out to the side of Tálagor, meleth_. Nenni did as asked. The end of the branch burst into flame. Her eyebrows raised. 

_You are full of surprises, husband._ She chuckled. _And here, all this time I thought you were so good with the fireplace._

_I am good with the fireplace,_ he sent indignantly. 

"Mm hmmm" she said, teasing him.

_I will keep your secrets, as I promised. They are powerful gifts, and interesting ones. You honor me, by having shared this._ She squeezed his arm once again.

Shockingly, the rest of the day was utterly uneventful. As was the next week. They kept their quiet routines; duties, sparring, work, and Nenni at last made time to take out her stacks of music and take up the recorder once again. Though in the beginning, she would practice alone in the garden. Soon enough, she once again drew sweet song from the wooden instrument, as she began to play simple pieces to reacquaint herself.

The exception to these ordinary pursuits were daily walks near the Palace. Hand in hand they went, practicing the intermingling of their powerful gifts. It brought them delight, and closeness. Having begun to emerge from the initial struggle to redefine their relationship, neither was eager to create another rift, however accidental it might be. This mental joining, they discovered, proved to be a neutral and safe ground, where they might experience the other with great intimacy, yet in a manner that was simply not open to conflict. They allowed their spirits dwell in the warp and woof of life itself, and found comfort there. Though each knew there would still be struggle, they were working successfully to unite with each other against greater difficulties yet to come.

**Here ends Dragonfire, Book Two of the Adonnenniel series. Book Three, Emissary of the Valar, will continue the story of Adonnenniel and Thranduil.**


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